


By Your Side

by geekymoviemom



Series: What If? [1]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book/Movie 2: Catching Fire, F/M, First Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-08-30 07:45:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 48
Words: 123,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8524459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekymoviemom/pseuds/geekymoviemom
Summary: After the 74th Games Katniss lets Peeta walk away, thinking it was all an act.  But what if she hadn't?  This is an AU Catching Fire story where Katniss allows herself to love Peeta from the start.  This will follow book two with a few major twists.





	1. The Train Home

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for checking out my story! This is the first thing that I've written in a long time that wasn't a lecture or a lab report, so constructive criticism is always welcome. :). I love the Hunger Games and Peeta and Katniss are my favorites so this story will be all Everlark. 
> 
> This will eventually earn its M rating. I have a T-rated version posted elsewhere, please PM me for the link. :)
> 
> I do not own any of the original Hunger Games characters. Occasionally I will borrow lines of dialogue or small scenes from the original trilogy, no plagiarism is intended.

By Your Side

Why are you striving these days  
Why are you trying to earn grace  
Why are you crying  
Let me lift up your face  
Just don't turn away

'Cause I'll be by your side wherever you fall  
In the dead of night whenever you call  
And please don't fight these hands that are holding you  
My hands are holding you

PPOV

The train begins moving and we're plunged into night until we can clear the tunnel and I take my first real deep breath since the reaping. Effie and Haymitch are both accompanying us back to District 12, along with both of our prep teams. After dinner, Katniss and I sit holding hands in front of the television to watch a replay of the last interview with Caesar. With the Capitol growing farther away every second, I begin to think of home. Of my brothers, and my father and mother. Will they want to move into the new house with me? Do I really want my mother living in my new house with me? Will I still work at the bakery? Maybe I can even get some paints and canvases; I'd love to start painting with real paint, instead of the crushed berry juice that I'd had up until now. Since I don't need to go to school anymore, I'll need something to occupy my time.

While I'm pondering these things Katniss excuses herself and heads towards her room. I watch her leave with trepidation. I can wonder all I want about how things will be with my family when I get home, but the real question that is haunting me right now is how things will be with her when we return. We haven't really had a normal... what's the word, courtship? Up until now, pretty much every move we've made has been with cameras or people watching us. I really don't know all that much about her, what her favorite color is, what she wants to be when she grows up, how she managed to find me camouflaged by the river half dead. My mind starts swirling with questions and when Katniss returns, now dressed comfortably in a simple shirt and trousers, her face scrubbed clean of makeup and her hair in its signature braid, I can tell by the scowl on her face that she has just as many questions as I do.

When the train makes a brief stop for fuel, we're allowed to go outside for some fresh air. There's no longer any need to guard us. Katniss and I walk hand in hand along the train tracks, and I find that I am at a loss for words. Looking around, I see some pretty wildflowers growing near us, so I stop to gather some and present them to her. She takes them with an odd look on her face, holding onto them tightly but turning away from me.

"What's wrong?" I ask her.

"Nothing," she answers, but I don't believe that for a second. We continue walking, past the end of the train, out where there can't possibly be any cameras hidden in the scrubby bushes along the track. Still, she says nothing.

Haymitch startles us both when he appears suddenly in front of us. Even now, in the middle of nowhere, he keeps his voice down. "Great job, you two. Just keep it up back at District 12 until the cameras are gone. We should be okay." I watch him head back to the train in confusion, then look at Katniss. 

"What does that mean?" I ask her.

"It's the Capitol. They didn't like our stunt with the berries," Katniss blurts out, still clutching tightly to the wildflowers.

My heart starts pounding in my chest. "What? What are you talking about?" Something is definitely not okay with this.

"It seemed too rebellious. So Haymitch has been coaching me through the last few days; so I didn't make it worse." Her voice grows quiet at the end and she lifts the flower bouquet up to her nose.

Now I'm getting upset. "Coaching you?! But not me?" I ask her, a little more forcefully than I intended. 

Her head snaps back up and there are tears in her eyes. "He knew you were smart enough to get it right," she says, barely loud enough for me to hear her.

"I didn't realize there was anything I had to get right," I say, turning away from her and trying not to feel humiliated. After a minute I turn back to look at her and she's looking back down at the flowers. "So, what you're saying is, these last few days, and then I guess back in the arena too..." my voice trails off as I can feel tears starting to form. "It was all for the Games, how you acted?"

She looks back at me, finally, still tightly clutching those flowers and shakes her head. "No, not all of it," she says.

"Then how much? Wait, no, don't answer that. I guess the real question is, what's going to be left when we get home?" I say, dreading the answer.

She turns away again. "I don't know," she replies. "The closer we get to District 12, the more confused and afraid I get." 

"Well, let me know when you figure it out," I tell her, and turn to walk back towards the train, feeling my heart start to shatter.

I'm almost back to the tracks when I feel her small hand on my arm. "Peeta, please," she says, and I can hear sniffling sounds like she's trying not to cry. "Please don't turn away from me just because I'm scared and confused." 

I stop walking and sigh loudly. Turning around to look at her, I take a deep breath. "Okay Katniss. Let's find somewhere where we can talk." 

She nods her head, so I take her hand and lead her back onto the train.


	2. A Talk

KPOV

Peeta holds my hand and leads me through the train, past the dining car, past the sleeping cars to the very end of the train. The doors slide open to reveal a large room with a huge picture window at the back. There are couches underneath where we can sit and watch the countryside rolling by. Peeta sits down on the couch and pulls me to sit down next to him, not letting go of my hand. It's almost like he's afraid I'm going to bolt up and run away, which if I'm being honest with myself, means that he knows me a lot better than I thought.

We sit in silence for a few minutes, before I look up at him and sign in frustration. I try to distract myself by tracing the veins in his wrist up to his palm. Peeta just waits for me, not saying anything. It's almost maddening.

Finally I look up at him. "You're not being fair," I blurt out, regretting my choice of words almost immediately. Peeta's eyebrows disappear under his hair and he opens his mouth to speak, but I raise my other hand to cut him off.

"We were practically strangers before the reaping, and then you had to go on national TV and say that you had a crush on me, and then in training I kept trying not to look at you too much because I was afraid of getting too close to you and then having to kill you, and then in the arena it seemed for a while that you were trying to kill me...".

Peeta opens his mouth again but I again cut him off. "Let me finish, talking this much all at once is hard for me," I admit sheepishly, looking back down at his hand holding mine.

"And then, in the arena when the rule change was announced, my mind immediately went to you and I shouted your name from the tree, without even thinking that I might be giving away my position to the Careers. And then when I found you I was so thankful, and then I was afraid you were going to die, and then when you didn't I was so relieved because I felt safe in that cave with you and I haven't felt safe like that since my father died. And then when you kissed me that one time when my head started bleeding again I didn't want to stop. And then once they announced that we won in the arena and you were bleeding so bad from your leg and you collapsed in the hovercraft and I didn't know if you had lived or died and I was frantic; because if you had died then after all that we'd been through in that arena, then I wanted to die too."

I pause for a minute to catch my breath before continuing. Peeta is still rubbing his thumb back and forth on my hand and saying nothing.

"And I've always said that I never wanted to fall in love or get married because loving someone that much only ends up destroying you in the end..." my voice trails off again and I feel like I've said more in a few minutes than I have in the last five years.

Peeta is silent for a while, waiting I think to make sure I'm finished with my speech. When I finally work up the courage to look back up at him I see him smiling lightly at me, almost smirking.

I feel myself flushing with embarrassment. "There's nothing funny about this," I say, looking away and trying to pull my hand away. But he holds onto it tightly and puts his other hand under my chin, forcing me to look back up at him.

"What do you want from me Katniss?" he asks, keeping his hand on my chin so I can't look away. His beautiful blue eyes are staring deeply into my grey ones; unwavering and strong, just like him.

His question takes me by surprise, and I find myself unable to answer right away. No one has asked me what I wanted for myself for a very, very long time. What I've wanted has never seemed to be a priority. I didn't want my father to be killed in that mine explosion. I didn't want my mother to completely withdraw from the world following his death, causing all three of us to almost starve to death. I didn't want to have to single-handedly start supporting my family when I was only 11 years old, but nobody ever asked me if it was what I wanted. It's been so long since I've even thought only about what I wanted that I think I've forgotten how.

Peeta waits patiently for me to reply, his one hand still holding my hand and moving his other hand from my chin over to cup my cheek. Almost instinctively I lean into his hand, letting his touch give me the strength to figure out the jumbled mess of thoughts floating in my head.

"I want," I start out, blinking a couple of times at the foreign nature of those words coming from my lips. "I want you to make me feel safe again, because I'm scared of being alone anymore. I want you to help keep my nightmares away. I want to learn more about you and what you like to do. I want to stop just trying to survive and learn how to start living, but I don't think I know how to do that by myself. I want you to tell me stories about you growing up with your brothers, and I want to tell you stories about my father and about Prim. I want to not have to be the strong one all of the time."

I pause for a moment before continuing. "And I want to share all of these things with you, Peeta, and it's scaring me so much because I've never wanted to share these kinds of things with anyone before."

Peeta nudges my cheek with his hand, asking me silently to meet his eyes. "Not with anyone?" he asks, his voice wavering. I shake my head in response. I know his underlying question is about Gale. He's just too much of a gentleman to ask me directly.

Gale. Thinking of him makes me nervous again, and I drop my eyes back down to Peeta's hand holding my own. I've never thought about Gale as anything other than a friend, an older brother maybe. His reputation as a ladies man at the slag heap was almost legendary, but Peeta seemed to think there was something else there.

"Did you think Gale would be waiting for me to come home to him?" I ask. Now it's Peeta's turn to look down, a flush creeping up his neck as he stared at our joined hands.

"Try to look at it this way," he says, glancing back up at me before looking off to the side, his face still red. "I've been watching the two of you together for years. From my perspective, he was the one who could coax a smile from you. He was the one hunting with you in the woods, he was the one who helped you to survive..." his voice trails off as he notices the expression on my face. I bring my other hand up to touch his hand still on my cheek, shaking my head.

"No Peeta," I say, swallowing thickly. "You helped me survive when you threw me that bread in the rain when I was 11. You don't understand how close I was to giving up. Prim and I were starving to death, my mother was so busy wallowing in her grief that she didn't even notice; I didn't know what else to do. You took a beating to give me that bread." I reach up to touch his cheek where the horrible bruise had been the next day.

"The next day at school, I wanted so badly to thank you, but I didn't know how" I say, still stroking his cheek as if I was erasing the mark that used to be there. "Then I saw a dandelion in the schoolyard, and I suddenly remembered what my father had taught me about finding food in the forest. You were the reason I survived Peeta, not Gale. Gale came along later, once I was already hunting in the forest. Gale's my friend, yes, but he's only my friend," I say firmly, looking straight into Peeta's eyes. "I've never thought of him as anything other than a friend, and he doesn't see me like that either."

Peeta doesn't look convinced but says nothing, instead he lets go of my hand and brings his up to cup my other cheek.

"Katniss, do you understand how much I care for you?" he asks, gently stroking my cheekbone with his thumb.

I look into his eyes; those beautiful blue eyes with the longest eyelashes that I've ever seen. Eyes that are so different from my own. Eyes that are mirroring every word he just said.

"Yes," I say, my voice almost squeaking. "I think I do."

He smiles. "Then I just have one question left for you right now. Katniss, can I kiss you?" he asks, so sweetly it almost brings tears to my eyes.

I smile at him. "You don't have to ask me," I say, starting to lean towards him. He leans towards me and meets me halfway.

This kiss is the first one we've shared with no cameras or people watching us, and it feels different, more intimate. His lips are warm and soft and his skin smells like vanilla and I can feel warmth building in my chest and spreading down to my fingertips. This feels like that one kiss in the cave, the one that I didn't want to end when my head started bleeding again. I bring my arms up around his neck to hold him to me, feeling his thumbs still gently stroking my cheekbones. We stay here locked to each other until we have to break apart and catch our breaths. I lean my head onto his chest and his arms wrap around me, holding me tight.

All of a sudden I'm exhausted and try to stifle a yawn. Peeta notices and chuckles lightly. "It's getting late, and we have another big, big, big day tomorrow," he says, imitating Effie and her Capitol accent. "Why don't we try and get some sleep?"

I look up at him. "Will you stay with me?" I'm afraid to sleep by myself. I've barely slept at all since the arena; first out of fear when I hadn't known how bad Peeta was injured, then because Haymitch and Effie kept us apart until the interviews.

He pulls back to look at me and smiles. "Always," he says, and takes my hand to lead me towards the sleeping cars. Peeta stops by his room to grab some sleeping clothes and then joins me in my room. I've already changed into my pajamas when he comes out of my bathroom ready for sleep. We climb under the covers and he wraps his arms around me, holding me tightly against him. He kisses the back of my head and I kiss his hand, and we both quickly fall into a dreamless sleep.


	3. Almost Home

PPOV

The loud rapping on the door rouses both Katniss and me in the morning. "Hey you two, it's time to get up," Haymitch says through the closed door. I could hug him for not just barging in on us, lying intertwined on Katniss's bed. The last thing that Katniss needs is Haymitch's smirking and sarcastic remarks about our relationship right now when she's still trying to get used to being in one.

I look down at Katniss who has pulled the blanket up over her head. I teasingly kiss the top of her head and move the blanket back down to kiss her cheek.

"Good morning Katniss," I whisper in her ear. She rolls over to face me and smiles sleepily, stretching her arms up over her head. I lean down to kiss her on the nose and then sit on the edge of the bed to attach my prosthetic leg. Standing up, I offer her my hand to help her up. "We better get ready, before Haymitch decides to break in here looking for us," I say with a smirk. Katniss just scowls and shuffles towards the bathroom. I tell her I'll see her at breakfast and leave for my own room to change.

I quickly put on a simple t-shirt and lounge pants, knowing that my prep team will re-dress me in something fancier for our arrival in District 12 shortly after breakfast. Katniss is already at the breakfast table when I arrive, not eating and nervously fiddling with her napkin. Effie and Haymitch are there; Effie looking as put together as ever in her Capitol getup and Haymitch looking like he slept in his clothes. Our prep teams are there too, drinking coffee and complaining about they can't possibility be expected to do their best prep work at such an early hour.

I slide into the empty chair next to Katniss and reach for her hand under the table and squeeze it gently. I can feel some of the tension leave her body and she squeezes mine back, allowing a small smile to replace her scowl. I reach for the bread basket with my free hand and open it, finding the cheese buns inside that I had asked the on-board chef to make for us this morning.

I gently tug on Katniss's hand to get her attention. "Look, I had the train chef make cheese buns for you," I say, holding it in front of her.

The look of awe that she gives me makes my heart leap. "Thank you," she says, swallowing thickly and taking the bun from my hand. She stares at it for a couple of seconds before taking a bite. I take another one for myself and we sit in comfortable silence for the rest of the meal, listening to the chatter of our prep teams and Effie with our hands linked together the whole time.

"Now you two," Effie's voice cuts through the rest of the chatter and the table falls silent. "It's time for you both to get dressed as we'll be arriving at District 12 right on schedule." A chorus of groans erupts from the various prep team members, who don't seem to think they have consumed enough coffee to prep anyone yet at this hour.

I try and stifle a chuckle while tugging on Katniss's hand to help her up from the table. I don't really want to be away from her right now since I know she is nervous, but I don't think Effie or Haymitch will allow us to be prepped together either.

"I'll see you soon," I say, giving her a kiss on her cheek. She nods and reluctantly releases my hand to be led away back to her room.

Thankfully my prep team doesn't try to engage me in conversation while they get me ready, preferring to talk amongst themselves. I didn't want Katniss to see it, but I'm just as nervous to get back home as I can tell she is. I'm nervous about how my mother will react to seeing me back again, alive instead of in a pine box like she expected. I'm nervous about seeing my brothers again, especially Rye. But most of all I'm nervous about how Katniss will react to seeing her family and friends and if it will change anything about what we talked about last night. I believe that she thinks that Gale doesn't have feelings for her like I do, but I've been watching the two of them for so long that I think I know better, and it was always pretty obvious to me that he considered Katniss to be his, no matter what his reputation was as a slag heap king.

I shake my head to try to rid myself of these thoughts as Portia approaches me with my outfit for the day. It's thankfully not too fancy; given that District 12 is the poorest district in Panem our standards of fancy are a bit different than most. She dresses me in a simple pair of khaki trousers with a white shirt and a casual blue jacket that matches my eyes perfectly. A basic leather brown belt and brown shoes complete the outfit. I look like a nicer version of the regular Peeta Mellark rather than the Capitol version. Portia quickly styles my hair so that it's gently combed to the side but still allowing for it to flop over my forehead when I look down. She must know that Katniss prefers it that way, because she winks at me when I touch it.

"Thank you Portia," I say, giving her a hug. "For everything." She hugs me back and wishes me luck as I leave the room to go and wait for Katniss.

I find my way back to the dining car. Effie's voice is belting out orders to the stewards on the train and trying to make sure that everything is "fabulous" for our arrival in 10 minutes time.

I sit down on one of the chairs across from Haymitch and notice that my palms are sweaty. I try to discreetly wipe them off on the chair and Haymitch snorts.

"Nervous?" he gloats, raising his flask to me.

Thankfully Katniss arrives right then sparing me from answering. She looks absolutely beautiful in a simple sheath dress in the same color blue as my jacket with plain black flat shoes and her hair done in a slightly more elaborate than usual braid. Her face is made up but not heavily.

As soon as she sees me she makes a beeline for me and I stand up to greet her, putting one arm around her waist and lightly hugging her to me.

"You look beautiful!" I tell her, kissing her cheek. She squeezes my arm and shifts a little closer to me as Effie announces that we have arrived. "Are you ready?" I ask her, squeezing her briefly closer to me.

She nods and straightens up her shoulders. "Yes," she says. "Let's go home."


	4. Back in Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I borrowed the names for Peeta's brothers from other fics that I've liked. Rye will be playing a pretty major role in my story so we will get to know him pretty well.

KPOV

My heart is pounding as the train pulls into the station at District 12. If it wasn't for Peeta's hand tightly clinging to mine I feel like I might float away. Once the train stops Effie pats our backs to move us towards the exit. I can see the crowd of people waiting to greet us even before we reach the door. I gulp and feel Peeta squeeze my hand as he leads us off the train.

Flashbulbs explode in my face as soon as we step onto the platform, temporarily blinding me and causing me to turn my head into Peeta's chest. All around us people are applauding and cheering, celebrating the first Victors from District 12 in 24 years. I know why they are happy. The Victor's District is honored almost as much as the Victor themselves in the first year following the Games. There will be a lavish party at the Mayor's house tonight to celebrate our victory, attended by some select Capitol officials and all of the higher-class district residents. Then there is the extra rations every month for each District family, called Parcel Day. For at least this year, maybe District 12 won't have anyone starving to death. That thought alone is enough for me to smile slightly, still clinging to Peeta's hand.

"Katniss!" My heart soars as I see Prim pushing through the crowd to reach me, her little face shining with happiness. I drop Peeta's hand just in time to catch her as she launches herself into my arms and clings to my neck.

"I told you you could win!" she exclaims, squeezing me around the neck and practically knocking me over. Prim lets go of me all of a sudden and to my surprise launches herself next into Peeta's arms. He's so surprised that he barely catches her in time.

"Thank you for helping to save my sister," she says into his neck. Peeta looks proud and pats her back rather awkwardly until she lets go of him and grabs my hand again.

"C'mon Katniss," she says, pulling on my hand. "Mom and the Hawthornes are waiting to congratulate you too!" She leads me down the steps of the platform, leaving Peeta behind. I glance back at him with a look of apology and he smiles at me. I can see his family approaching him so I know he won't be alone on the platform for too long.

Prim practically drags me to the spot where my mother and Gale's family are standing. My mom hugs me quickly with tears in her eyes. I cling tightly to her, having thought I would never see her again.

"Welcome home Katniss," she says, pulling back to stroke my cheek for a minute. Hazelle Hawthorne is next to hug and congratulate me, followed quickly by Posy, Rory and Vick. Only Gale hangs back, reluctant it seems to even meet my eyes and looking at the ground so awkwardly that Posy finally pulls on his arm.

"Gale," she says, jumping up and down and pulling him towards me. "Don't you see that Katniss is back?"

Gale finally looks up at me and I can see what looks like disbelief and betrayal in his eyes. "Hey Catnip," he says, making no move to give me a hug or anything. I'm stunned and hurt, but I try not to show it. I feel my heart flip and turn to look behind me where I can see Peeta looking at me with concern while both of his brothers are pounding on his back and whooping loudly. I can also see his dad standing off to the side with a big smile on his face. I notice though that I don't see his mother in the group. I nod and smile at him before turning back to Gale, who's grey eyes have narrowed even more.

"So its true then?" he practically spits out. "You and the baker boy?" Instantly I'm angry and I can feel my face screw into a scowl.

"His name is Peeta!" I snap back. "And he saved my life in case you didn't see it." Gale scowls to match my own and he shakes his head.

"I never thought you would become a pawn in the Capitol's game, Catnip. I always thought you were better than that," he says, looking back at the ground and refusing to meet my eyes.

I stand there stunned. This was certainly not the reaction that I was expecting from him. Gale hates the Capitol more than anyone I know, and now he's insinuating that my Hunger Games experience has changed me into one of them? How dare he!

"What are you talking about?" I say, growing more frustrated by the second.

"You and Mellark, falling all over each other on TV for the whole country to see," he says. "You're just as bad now as those idiots that live in the Capitol." His grey eyes are blazing with anger. 

"I don't get you Katniss," he continues. "The day of the reaping you're ranting and raving about how you never wanted to get married or have kids, and then you go away for a month and everything's changed? What did the Capitol do to you, Catnip? What did Mellark do to you while you were there?"

"It wasn't just for the Capitol! And Peeta didn't do anything to me that I didn't want him to do!" I practically shout at him, instantly regretting my words as I see the expression on his face turn almost murderous.

Gale grabs my arms, squeezing them to the point of pain. "He's a Merchant, Katniss!" he shouts back, seemingly oblivious that the crowd has grown silent around us. "Our kind doesn't mix with Merchants!"

Without thinking my hand goes up and slaps him across the face, hard. The next instant Peeta is at my side and grabbing my stinging hand. "How dare you!" I hiss at Gale, who is clutching his reddened cheek. "How dare you speak to me that way, and how dare you speak about Peeta that way!"

Gale gapes at me for a few seconds, shoots Peeta a vile look and then spins on his heel to walk away. I feel Peeta's arm slide across my shoulders and instinctively move closer to him. "I can't believe he would say those horrible things," I sniffle, trying not to cry since I'm still standing in front of most of District 12.

Peeta just hugs me closer and tugs me to walk with him. "C'mon," he says. "I want to introduce you to my dad and brothers."

I try to compose myself as we cross the short distance over to where Peeta's family is standing with odd looks on their faces. Peeta's dad moves to hug me as soon as I'm close enough, managing to coax a smile out of me.

"Welcome home Katniss," he says in his deep voice, patting my back before releasing me. I can't help but smile wider. Peeta's dad is basically an older version of Peeta himself. He has the same stocky build and blond hair and blue eyes, although Peeta's eyes are a deeper shade of blue and his hair slightly more ashy in color. Even his smile is almost the same. Peeta replaces his arm around my shoulders as he turns to his brothers next.

"And these are my older brothers Bannock and Rye," Peeta says, pointing first to the oldest and then the middle brother. Like their father and Peeta, the two older Mellark brothers are blond with blue eyes, although Bannock is a bit taller and less stocky and his eyes are almost green in color. He has a more serious expression also, but his eyes are still twinkling as he shakes my hand.

"Thank you for helping to bring Peeta home, Katniss," Bannock says. I nod at him, unsure of what exactly to say. Rye surprises me by pulling me into a quick hug. "Thank you Katniss," he says, almost sounding like he's trying not to cry. It strikes me then that Rye may be feeling guilty for not volunteering for Peeta at the reaping since he was still eligible. I try to smile at him.

"You're welcome," I say awkwardly.

Thankfully the awkward moment is interrupted by Effie reminding us that it's now time to head over to Victor's Village to choose our new houses. I quickly call over to my mother and Prim and both of our families start walking away from the crowd, Effie leading the way in her 4-inch heels.

As we enter Victor's Village I'm awestruck by how big the houses are. Our little home in the Seam was only three rooms, and you could fit three or four of our Seam shacks into one of these mansions. How can I justify living here when so many of the Seam families are struggling just to heat their homes in the winter or keep the roofs from leaking? I shake my head at the irony. Peeta and I were thrown into an arena against our will to kill people, and since we were the last ones standing we're rewarded with a huge house. It doesn't seem right.

Next to me, Peeta seems to sense my apprehension and moves his arm from my shoulders to my waist to squeeze me close. I find it comforting that he always seems to know what I am thinking and I realize that I couldn't handle any of this nonsense without him. It seems hard for me to believe that it was only yesterday that I agreed to let him into my heart. I hadn't realized just how rooted in there he was already.

Stuck deep in my internal thoughts I don't realize that Effie was asking me a question until I feel Peeta nudge me with his shoulder.

"I'm sorry Effie, what did you say?" I ask, trying to seem like I'm happily overwhelmed instead of anxiously so.

Effie huffs. "I said, you and Peeta will need to choose your new home, and then we have some people here who have already offered to help you move your belongings for you so you can start to get ready for the party at Mayor Undersee's home tonight."

Trying not to panic at the thought of strangers touching my personal belongings, as meager as they are, I turn to study the houses. From the outside they look pretty much identical.

"I'll take that one," I say, pointing to the one closest to the woods. Peeta smiles at me like he was expecting my choice.

"And I'll take the one across the street from Katniss," he says, squeezing my waist gently.

"Oh goody, right next door to me," a voice startles us from behind. I snap around to see Haymitch staggering up the path, his shirt now untucked and his flask in his hand. Winking at Peeta and me, he nudges Effie with his elbow. "Gotta keep an eye on these two, right?"

I feel a blush creeping up on my face as one of Peeta's brothers lets out a wolf whistle. Peeta's face blushes red too and he grabs my new house keys from Effie. "C'mon Katniss, let's see what your new house looks like," he says as he pulls me towards the home I have chosen. He unlocks the door and we both gasp as we go inside.

The house has obviously been recently cleaned, since it has been sitting empty for so long before now. The furniture and appliances look brand new, with a modern stove in the huge kitchen and something else called a dishwasher. The five full bathrooms and the kitchen all have not and cold running water, something I've never had growing up in the Seam. The staircase to the right of the front door leads to the second floor and four bedrooms; a master with its own bathroom, two slightly smaller bedrooms further down the hall, each with their own bathrooms, and a fourth room across from the master that could be used as an office of some kind or another bedroom if needed. Having shared a 10x10 foot room with Prim my whole life, I'm taken aback at the thought of sleeping by myself in one of these huge bedrooms. Peeta again seems to sense my apprehension and squeezes my waist gently. He stops in one of the doorways and pulls me into a hug.

"It'll be okay Katniss," he says soothingly, rubbing his hands up and down my back. I put my arms up around his neck and bury my face into his chest. "I'll be right by your side, as long as you'll let me." He kisses my cheek and we stand there for a minute, trying to absorb all that has happened in the short time since we've arrived home.

"Katniss? Peeta?" I hear Effie calling from downstairs. "We need to get over to Peeta's house now, and then your prep teams will be arriving soon to get you both ready for your celebration tonight." Always on schedule is Effie.

Peeta and I reluctantly pull apart and he takes my hand, leading me back down the stairs to where our families are waiting for us.


	5. Victor's Village

PPOV

Effie insists that Katniss not accompany me to my new house, as the prep teams have just arrived and insist on starting on Katniss immediately. I look back at her as I leave her house following my brothers and father and the look on her face wrenches my heart. She looks both nervous and resigned, the same as I feel. I know we will both be able to relax a lot more once all of the hubbub from our victory has died down and we can resume just getting to know each other without an audience following our every move.

My new house has the exact same layout as Katniss's. As my brothers ooh and aah over the kitchen and my father pokes around upstairs, Effie tells me that she's planning on having an extra oven installed since I "like to bake so much" and she's also going to have some rails installed on the wall of my bedroom and bathroom so I can get around easier without my prosthetic leg on. Her mention of my prosthetic sends Rye mumbling an excuse about needing "to go do something" before the party tonight and he practically runs out the door.

"I think he feels guilty, Peet," Bannock says from behind me.

I look at him and squint my eyes in confusion. "What does he have to feel guilty about?"

"Well, here you are back from the Hunger Games, and you've lost a leg, and you're with a girl that volunteered for _her_ sibling, so..." his voice trails off.

I shake my head. "I never expected him to volunteer for me," I say firmly. "He has to know that!" Bannock shrugs. He's a man of far fewer words than the rest of the Mellark men.

"Speaking of which, where's Mom?" I ask.

Bannock looks sheepishly down at the floor before replying. "She thought it best to stay at the bakery and see you at the party tonight instead," he says, still looking down at his shoes.

While I'm not surprised that my mother wasn't at the train station to greet me, I'm still hurt by it. Perhaps it was for the best anyway. Katniss already had had one confrontation at the station, having my mother there could have made things worse.

"On the other hand, I asked Casey to marry me while you were gone, and she said yes!" Bannock continues, obviously changing the subject. "We're waiting until next month for the toasting." Bannock smiles widely and rocks on his feet.

"Ban, that's wonderful!" I exclaim, clapping him on the shoulder. "I'm happy for you!"

"Thanks, baby brother," he says, ruffling my hair. I chuckle. I'm almost a grown man now, have survived the Hunger Games, but I'm still the 'baby brother'.

"Peeta, your prep team is here now, it's time to get ready for tonight," Effie says, clicking back over to us on her high heels. My father comes back down the stairs and claps me on the shoulder.

"I think you'll have plenty of room here Peeta," he says. "This is a nice house!"

My stomach sinks. "Aren't you guys going to live here too?" I ask, already knowing the answer based on my dad's expression.

He clears his throat, at least having the decency to look embarrassed. "No, your mother thinks that it would be easier for us to stay at the bakery, since we get up so early and..." his voice trails off as I look away, trying not to look as upset as I feel. My father has never been able to stand up to my mom. She would scream and yell and hit us boys over the stupidest things, and he never would say a word in our defense.

Taking a deep breath I try to compose myself. "It's okay, she's probably right," I say, hopeful that my voice isn't trembling. Right now I can't imagine wandering around in this huge house all by myself, so I try to put it out of my mind.

"I'll see you guys tonight at the party, right?" I ask them as my prep team bursts though the door. Dad and Bannock both nod and say they will see me later, and after a quick snack my prep team leads me upstairs to get ready for the Mayor's party.

Once again, I'm grateful that my prep team seems to be content to talk amongst themselves as I'm not really in the mood for idle chitchat. After a month of getting fussed over, fattened up, trained, thrown into an arena to kill other children, being half dead twice and then crowned a Victor, I'm ready to be just Peeta again. _No, not just Peeta_ , I think to myself. As long as I can be just Peeta with Katniss, then I should be okay.

Thankfully since I was just prepped for our arrival this morning there isn't that much for the team to do but hose me down in the shower and re-dress me. I'm dressed in an elegant suit that is a dark royal blue, almost navy, with a lighter blue shirt and some kind of blue bow tie that I heard is called an ascot, and black polished shoes. My hair is styled up off of my forehead, which I immediately think will not make Katniss happy. I chuckle at that thought as I look at myself in my new full-length mirror in the master bedroom.

"Not half bad Mellark," I say to myself, wondering what Katniss will look like. We usually end up matching somehow, so I imagine that her dress will be the same shade of blue as my tie.

My front door bursting open startles me and I quickly go over to the steps to see who else is here. I'm surprised to see some of the stewards from the train carrying in several boxes and being directed by Effie. They come directly up the stairs so I flatten myself against the wall to let them pass.

"What's all this, Effie?" I ask her as she walks behind them barking orders on where to put things.

"This is your new wardrobe, young man," she states. "All of these things have been custom made for you and designed by Portia, your stylist," she adds, waving her hands at the stewards to get on with it.

My eyes widen as I see them open the boxes and start to fill the closet and dressers with enough clothing for half of the district. While I'm proud of Portia; apparently it's a big thing in the Capitol to dress the current Hunger Games Victor, I can't help feeling like she's just another piece in their games.

Once I actually get a good look at the new clothes hanging in my huge closets, I'm surprised to see that most of the pieces are things I might actually wear. Comfortable looking pants, simple button-down shirts, a few cozy sweaters along with more formal-looking suits and ties that I'll probably have to wear while in the Capitol. I look through the dresser drawers to find them filled with pajamas and t-shirts. I've never had real pajamas. I've always just used Rye's old hand-me-down sweats to sleep in. Maybe I didn't give Portia enough credit. I hope that Cinna did the same type of thing for Katniss. I chuckle a little at the thought of Katniss's face scowling as she watches strangers unload boxes full of clothing into her new house. She'll probably end up giving most of it to Prim.

Again, the opening of my front door startles me out of my deep thoughts about my new wardrobe, and I hurry back out into the hallway to see Haymitch poking his head around the door. "You all ready boy?" he asks, looking uncomfortable in a dark grey suit and new polished shoes. Even his hair has been washed. No wonder he'd disappeared all of a sudden.

"Yes," I reply with a smirk on my face. "And apparently so are you!" I add, gesturing towards the tight collar of his shirt.

Haymitch pulls on the collar and grunts. "I'm just going for the refreshments," he grumbles. "Effie has gone over to check on Katniss and her family so why don't we go wait outside for them? They should be done soon."

"Okay, sounds good," I say, fumbling around in my pockets to make sure I have my new house key. It would be just my luck to lock myself out of my new house on my first night here. Shaking my head at what Effie would think of that, I turn to head out of the front door, Haymitch right behind me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize if it seems like the story is moving rather slow. It will pick up soon, but I wanted to make sure to establish certain things first. :)
> 
> Thank you to all who have read and liked and commented! I very much appreciate it!


	6. The Mayor's Party

KPOV

My head is spinning with everything that has happened today, and once again I'm thankful for the incessant prattling of Flavius and Octavia, saving me from having to make or even participate in the conversation. Even though I was fully prepped for our arrival at District 12, the team deems it necessary to bring me fully back to 'beauty base zero' before Cinna can get a hold of me.

Scowling as I sit in my new bedroom, the feel of the new soft, fluffy robe I'm wearing the only thing saving me from a full-fledged tantrum, Cinna knocks on my door and enters before I can even say "come in."

He walks over and gives me a hug. "You holding up okay?" he says, concern lining his face and filling his deep brown eyes. I nod quickly, but Cinna sees right through my false bravado and hugs me again. "All this will be over soon," he reassures me. "Then you can try to move on with your life."

I can move on with my life. And exactly how am I supposed to do that, I wonder. I've gone from a barely-surviving girl trying desperately to keep her family alive to a Hunger Games Victor in the span of a few weeks. I will now have more money than I will ever know what to do with, I won't have to worry about where I'll get my next meal, and I now live in a house that could theoretically fit at least three Seam families. If it wasn't for Peeta going through all of this with me, I honestly don't know what I would do.

Peeta. My thoughts turned to him without me even having to try. Was it really only yesterday that we had our talk on the train? Where he held my face in his hands and told me how much he cared for me? Where I told him that I wanted a relationship with him? Where we kissed and I felt that thing again? That feeling of warmth spreading across my chest that I've come in such a short time to associate with the boy with the bread. My boy with the bread.

I must start smiling as Cinna fiddles with my hair, because I hear him chuckling from behind me all of a sudden, startling me back to reality. "You know," he says in his gravely voice. "You and Peeta are very lucky to have each other. It's going to be much easier for both of you to have each other to lean on."

"I know," I say, my smile growing wider until I'm sure I look like a silly lovestruck schoolgirl. I can feel a touch of the warmth that I felt during our kiss on the train spreading across my chest and up my neck and I swear my heart skips a beat.

Cinna finishes up with my hair and moves towards my bed where a garment bag was waiting with my dress for the evening. As he pulls it out and slips it over my head I gasp in amazement. The dress is made of silk, with a scoop neck top and a tight waist flaring out to a full skirt that ends at the middle of my lower legs. There are small sparkly stones along the neckline and across the hem which catch the light as I move. It's absolutely beautiful and I know that Peeta will love it. My hair has been styled so that it's mostly down with just the sides pulled back, and I'm wearing just a touch of makeup; some mascara and lipstick that matches the flush on my cheeks.

I come out of my room to find Prim exiting her new bedroom, looking incredible in her new dress and shoes. She squeals as she sees me and launches herself into my arms, nearly knocking me over. Her hair is styled in the same way, and her dress is a similar style and a couple of shades lighter than mine. She too is wearing a touch of lipstick and her eyes look shimmery, like they've been dusted with fine glitter. Seeing my little sister so excited to be dressed up for the first time in her life makes me almost tear up.

"Katniss, can you believe this?" Prim exclaims as she pulls on my hand. "They even washed my hair with real shampoo that smelled like flowers and plucked my eyebrows!"

"You look beautiful, Little Duck," I tell her, pulling her into another hug as our mother exits her bedroom. Looking at the two of us together she sniffs loudly and hugs us both.

"You both look beautiful," she says. It isn't until I pull back to look at her more closely that I realize she's not dressed up for the party.

"You're not coming?" I ask.

"No, I thought I would stay here and supervise the people moving our things," she replies, her eyes cast downward, refusing to meet mine.

I nod, trying not to let the hurt show on my face. I can understand that this whole moving and new house thing may be just as overwhelming for her as it has been for me, but I can't help but feel disappointed, like she's letting me down again. I sigh and nod again.

"All right then," I tell her. "We'll try to be quiet when we get home." She gives me a sort of sad smile and walks us down to the kitchen where Effie is waiting for us.

"There you are," Effie snaps to attention she sees us. "We must get going if we're to be on time," she says, checking her watch and hurrying us towards the door.

Peeta and Haymitch are waiting for us as we exit the house. Peeta's eyes light up when he sees us and he walks over to Prim and me, smiling his charming smile and looking incredibly handsome.

"Prim, you look beautiful!" he says to her, taking her hand and kissing the back of it, making her blush and giggle. I giggle softly with her. Since when did my sister blush?

Then Peeta looks up at me and his eyes are shining, the color a little darker than usual. He slides his arm around my waist and pulls me to him, leaning down to whisper in my ear. "And you," he whispers, making me shiver despite the warm and muggy evening air. "You look absolutely ravishing." I can feel my face and neck flushing as he kisses my cheek softly and squeezes my waist again before dropping his arm to find my hand. Linking our fingers together we begin to walk towards Town.

When we arrive at Mayor Undersee's mansion, Effie organizes all of us into some sort of reception line where we have to stand while all of the important Capitol people can greet us and get their pictures taken with the new Victors. It takes forever and my feet start to hurt after standing in one place for so long. After all of the Capitolites are through the line it's time for the Townspeople to come through, all of them offering their congratulations and saying how proud they are of Peeta and me. By the time we're able to escape my face is hurting from all of the false smiling I've had to do and I'm starving, not having eaten much since this morning on the train.

Once Effie dismisses us from the reception line Haymitch vanishes, presumably heading for the open bar. Some friends of Peeta's parents come and drag him away, but not before Peeta squeezes my hand apologetically and promises to not be too long. I look around desperately for some food and am grateful when my eyes find Madge sitting over by the piano. I quickly walk over to her before anyone else can get my attention.

As I approach Madge looks up at me and smiles, standing up from her chair to pull me into a hug. "Welcome home Katniss," she says into my neck.

"Thank you," I reply. "You look really nice tonight." She's wearing a pale lavender dress and matching shoes with her blonde hair curled around her face. She smiles lightly at my compliment.

"Are you hungry?" she asks me.

"I'm starving!" I exclaim, a little louder than I intended to. I quickly clap my hand over my mouth and laugh. Madge laughs too and grabs my hand to lead me over to the room where the foot is set up on long tables. I find my sister making her way through the various tables, her plate piled high with food and her eyes huge.

"Katniss!" Prim exclaims as she sees me approaching. "Have you ever seen this much food in your entire life?" She looks like she's in heaven trying to taste everything in the room.

Actually, I have seen that much food before. On the train, leading us to the Games. In the Tribute Center, where the Gamekeepers feasted while we demonstrated our skills for them. And in the Capitol, at the banquet they threw for Peeta and me before our final interview with Caesar.

But that's not for Prim to worry about. The whole point of me volunteering for her at the reaping was to make sure she didn't have to worry about it. Instead I smile at her and laugh as she bites into a chocolate-covered strawberry, her eyes rolling back and moaning at how delicious it is. I can see Madge smiling out of the corner of my eye. We each fill our plates and head back into the main room, finding chairs near the piano.

From our vantage point here in the corner I can see most of the room. There is a small band set up in the opposite corner, playing quiet music as to not interrupt the socializing. I can see Mayor Undersee standing near the bandstand deep in conversation with one of the Capitol officials, recognizable by his bright red hair and mustache and his bright purple suit accented with a hot pink tie and handkerchief. Further around the room I recognize some of the Merchant class from Town; the cobbler and his wife and their daughter Delly, who I know from school. The butcher and his oldest son and his wife, and the dressmaker with her husband and daughter who is Prim's age are among them. I look around hard, but I don't see the baker or his wife here. I can see Peeta talking to the butcher's son, but why aren't his parents here? Surely they must have been invited.

Peeta must sense me looking at him because he suddenly turns around and flashes me one of those smiles of his that makes my heart thump. I smile back and wave awkwardly which causes Madge to giggle.

"You've really got it bad for Peeta," she says, still giggling. My face immediately flushes red and I stare back down at the plate in my hands. I can hear Prim giggling on the other side of me.

I elbow her in the side. "Ow!" she says, but doesn't stop giggling.

Thankfully a couple of minutes later the band picks up the volume of the music and Prim leaps up from her chair, her plate of food forgotten as she yanks on my arm.

"Katniss, dance with me!" she says, pulling me towards the center of the room. I laugh and start twirling her around as the other party goers start to join us. For a moment I seem to be able to forget everything I've been through as Prim and I dance. I'm even able to ignore the photographers taking pictures of us every few seconds as I listen to my little sister, who I volunteered to go into the Hunger Games in order to save, laugh as she's never laughed before in her life.


	7. Electric Kisses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty fluffy. :)

PPOV

Watching Katniss dance with Prim and hearing her laugh makes me almost forget about the fact that my family hasn't shown up for the party. Delly and her father are talking a blue streak about something next to me and it's all I can do to listen to them, nodding politely when I'm supposed to. I'm sure it has something to do with why I haven't even seen my mom at all today. She didn't bother to show up at the train to welcome me home, which honestly didn't surprise me all that much. But for her to miss a party at the Mayor's house, to which all the higher class from District 12 were invited in order to celebrate my victory, that's low even for her.

My eyes turn back to Katniss and Prim, both of them looking so beautiful in their blue dresses, their faces flushed from dancing and their laughter tinkling across the room. They've been dancing for about twenty minutes now and I can see they are both starting to look tired. Just then the band's music changes from its upbeat tempo into a slower one. Excusing myself from the Cartwright family, I make my way over to Katniss and Prim.

"Prim, do you mind if I borrow Katniss for a bit?" I ask her with what I hope is a friendly smile.

"Of course not!" she exclaims, breathing hard from all her exertion. "I'll go and sit with Madge for a while." I think I see her wink at Katniss before she turns around to walk away.

"Hey you," Katniss says to me as I wrap my arms around her waist. Her arms slide around my neck, allowing me to hold her close.

"Hey," I reply back, not really wanting to talk right now and wishing that we could go somewhere alone for a minute. If it wasn't for the many photographers taking pictures of us right now this would be a really romantic moment. I tighten my arms around her waist and inhale the scent of her hair. It smells like lavender and vanilla. Another flashbulb goes off in my face, causing us both to jump.

That's it, I've had enough.

"Katniss?" I ask her, still holding her tightly against my body.

"Hmm?" she replies.

"Can we get some air out on the balcony for a little while? Get away from all of the photographers?"

Her head pulls away abruptly and she looks up at me with a pained expression. "Please?" she says, a hint of desperation in her voice.

Without another word I take her hand and pull her out of the room and onto the nearby balcony. There are a few people out here but thankfully none of the Capitolites are here and none of the flashbulb people have followed us. I lead Katniss over to the edge and lean against the railing, bringing her back close to me and sighing. She reaches her arms back around my neck and sighs too. Yes, this is much better.

I can feel her breaths in sync with mine as we cling to each other, trying to soak up every second of this free time that we've been given away from the prying eyes of Panem. Our bodies seem fit together perfectly; she's just the right height for her head to rest on my shoulder just right. My whole body is tingling with being so close to the girl I've loved pretty much my whole life. It almost makes me want to pinch myself to make sure it's real and not some dream I'm having, but I don't want to move right now.

"Katniss?" I just can't help it apparently.

"Hmm?" she answers, one of her hands playing with the hair on the back of my neck.

"You're here right now, with me. Is this real?" 

"Real." Her voice is breathy and soft, like she's half asleep.

Instantly a jolt of electricity blows through my body and I pull her instinctively tighter against me. Her hand tugs on my hair gently. Another jolt.

"Katniss?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I kiss you?"

She lifts her head off my shoulder so she can see my face and smiles up at me. "You know you don't have to ask," she whispers, again with that breathy voice. She pulls on my neck as I bend my head down to reach her lips.

This kiss is different, more passionate than even the kisses in the cave. Her lips are warm and sweet, her mouth molding perfectly to mine. This kiss is causing every nerve in my body to fire at once and concentrate in my groin. I can feel my skin heat up and my heart starts to pound. Katniss lets out a tiny whimper that almost causes my knees to buckle.

We finally pull apart to catch our breath, each looking at the other with intensity. I lean down to rest my forehead against hers. Her hands are still playing with my hair and my hands have drifted down to her lower back, my fingertips tracing the curve of her spine.

I gulp, leaning back to look at her. Her eyes are hooded and the silver color seems to be swirling in the evening light. "C-can we do that again?" I ask, my voice husky and my face burning.

Katniss doesn't answer, just tugs gently on my hair to bring my lips back to hers. This kiss is just as mind-blowing as the last one, and this time I lean against the railing for support so I don't stumble. I wish I could freeze this moment, right now, and just live in it forever.

Eventually, the need for air becomes all-encompassing and we both reluctantly break apart, panting with our foreheads pressed together.

"I don't want to be alone tonight. I'm afraid to sleep without you." Katniss sounds like a small child in pain.

"I know, but I don't think your mom and Prim would be too happy if you didn't stay at your new house with them tonight," I reply, wishing that that wasn't the case. I really, really don't want to be alone tonight.

"I know, but I don't like the thought of you all alone in your house tonight," she replies, her words muffled against my chest and her fingers still buried in my hair.

"I'll be okay," I try to assure her, hoping I sound more convincing than I feel.

She nods and buries her face back into my shoulder. We stay there for a few more minutes before I see the doors to the balcony slide open. "There you are!" Effie cries out, her voice shrill and making Katniss jump. "I've been looking everywhere for the two of you!" She looks upset. "It's the height of rudeness to hide at your own party!"

"We weren't hiding Effie," I say, sighing deeply. "We just needed a break from the cameras for a minute."

Effie huffs a couple of times before continuing. "Very well, but the party's nearly over anyway, so you both need to say your goodbyes to those important people that are here celebrating with you."

Katniss scowls at the mention of the 'important people' and I take her hand. "All right Effie," I say. "Lead the way."

Effie takes us around to every group of people still at the party, allowing them to congratulate us again on our Victory and wish us well with varying levels of sincerity.

Thirty minutes and several more pictures later we are finally done and allowed to leave. I feel like I'll be seeing spots for the rest of my life for now many pictures have been taken of us tonight. Katniss goes to collect Prim, who is sitting in a chair next to the piano half-asleep. Instead of making her walk I scoop Prim up into my arms and carry her. On our way out the door I see Effie tugging impatiently on Haymitch's arm, trying to get him up off of the couch he's passed out on.

Katniss holds tightly to my arm and Prim snoozes against my chest as we walk back towards Victor's Village in silence. Once we reach her house Mrs. Everdeen throws open the door and rouses Prim, marching her up the stairs to get ready for bed.

Katniss turns to me and immediately throws her arms around my neck. "I'll see you tomorrow, right?" she says, her voice still with that small child quality.

"Of course!" I whisper back. "I'll bring some cheese buns by in the morning." She's clinging to my neck like she's afraid I'm going to disappear and I'm rubbing her back, trying to burn the feel of her into my skin.

The door opens and Mrs. Everdeen pokes her head around it, causing us to break apart suddenly.

"Coming Katniss?" she asks. There's no disapproval in her voice, but I think I detect a hint of resignation. Katniss swallows and nods, reaching over to squeeze my hand one last time. I chastely kiss her on the cheek and wish them both a good night as the door closes. I stare at it for a moment, then turn around to cross the street, where my cold and empty mansion is waiting for me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to thank all of you who have checked out my story! I know it's quite fluffy right now as I'm trying for Katniss and Peeta to have some sort of a normal, sweet teenage courtship before stuff starts happening. Thank you for sticking with me!


	8. A Stroll into Town

KPOV

My mother allows me to go right up to bed after Peeta leaves. I'm grateful because I don't feel like trying to talk right now. I stand in the middle of my new room for at least five minutes, remembering the feel of Peeta's arms around my waist holding me close to him. I press my fingers to my mouth, trying to remember exactly the feel of his lips against mine. I can feel my skin burning and my nerve endings firing. Those kisses we shared on the balcony were different somehow. It was like I was hungry, but my stomach was full. It wasn't a hunger for food, but for the closeness that only Peeta can give me. I hadn't known just how starved I was for a closeness like that.

I might've stood there all night if I all of a sudden didn't realize just how tired I was. Contorting my body, I manage to unzip my blue dress and lay it gently over the chair in the corner before grabbing some of my brand-new pajamas and heading for the bathroom to shower.

Of all of the amenities this huge house offers, the shower is my favorite one. The feel of the never ending warm spray of water hitting my body is luxurious. Hot water was something we didn't have living in the Seam. Growing up, bathing meant boiling water over the fireplace and adding it to cold water in a small wooden tub. I'd never even seen a shower before until I'd stepped onto the train leading to the Capitol after the reaping. Of all the things I've had to get used to since becoming a Victor, enjoying a shower has been the easiest.

I stay under the water for what seems like forever until I feel myself nodding off on my feet. I quickly wash my hair with the vanilla-scented shampoo that Effie left for me before rinsing off and wrapping myself into a fluffy towel.

Pulling on my silky soft pajamas, I run a comb though my hair, quickly braid it back, and climb into the too-large bed. I touch my fingers to my lips again. I look out my bedroom window towards Peeta's house. He still has some lights on so he likely hasn't gone to sleep yet.

"Good night Peeta," I whisper into the night before falling into an uneasy sleep.

_We're running towards the Cornucopia, the wolf mutts close behind us. I keep thinking that Peeta shouldn't be running yet on his leg, which hasn't completely healed yet. Peeta makes it to the Cornucopia before I do and hoists me up while the mutts are coming faster and faster. I scramble to the top as quickly as I can and put my hand down to help him up. He scrambles up quickly, but not before his leg is gashed deeply by one of the mutts. There must be some sort of chemical in the mutt's saliva because Peeta's leg is bleeding a lot faster than it should be. I try to fix this new wound on his leg when Cato appears. We fight with Cato. Cato gets Peeta into a headlock, ready to snap his neck. My arrow is drawn and ready to fly. Peeta points to Cato's hand, but in my nervousness I miss and hit Peeta, right underneath where Cato's arm is choking him. As if in slow motion, the force of the arrow hitting Peeta's chest causes them both to tip backwards over the side of the Cornucopia while I watch helplessly, screaming Peeta's name. Two cannons fire. I see Cato's face lit up in the sky. My blood runs cold. Then I see Peeta's face, taunting me. I scream. Nooooo!!! Peeta can't be dead, he can't be dead, he can't be dead. The sunlight comes back on and the hovercraft approaches to take me from the arena, but I don't want to leave. If he dies, I'll never go home. I'll spend the rest of my life in this arena, trying to find my way out..._

Katniss.

_No, don't call me that. Call me Killer instead. I'm not worthy of the name my father gave me anymore._

Katniss!

_No, leave me alone! Peeta is dead and I should be too. I don't want to live without him._

"Katniss, wake up!!" I hear all of a sudden. My eyes blink open and I see the concerned face of my sister staring at me. "You're having a nightmare Katniss!" she says, stroking my hair. My heart is threatening to pound out of my chest. What is going on here? Where are we?

"Prim?" I squeak out, still trying to calm my breathing. She smiles at me, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

"You're okay Katniss, you're okay," she says. "It was just a bad dream. Everything's okay now."

No, everything's not okay. Everything won't ever be all okay ever again, but I don't want to burden my little sister with any more of my problems than I have already.

Prim smiles at me. "It's time to get up!" she says, like everything is okay again just like that. "Peeta's here, and he's brought cheese buns and muffins over!" She jumps off my bed and skips back over to the door, calling back up the stairs. "Come down soon, he's waiting for you!"

I take a couple of deep breaths after she leaves. Peeta isn't dead. He isn't dead, he's downstairs, waiting for me. Peeta is downstairs!! In a flash I'm out of the bed and grabbing clothes out my closet. I dress and brush my teeth quickly and re-do my braid. My face is still flushed from my nightmare, so I splash some cold water on it before rushing down the stairs.

Peeta's beaming face greets me as I walk into the kitchen. Prim is sitting at the table, moaning quietly as she bites into a blueberry muffin. Mother is at the counter measuring tea leaves into mugs. I walk right over to Peeta and pull him into a fierce hug, wanting desperately to feel him again after the dream that I had. I inhale deeply against his neck. He smells like cinnamon and blueberries and a hint of that same vanilla shampoo that I have.

"Good morning," I whisper.

"Good morning yourself," he whispers back, squeezing me gently before pulling back to smile at me.

I can see the dark circles under his eyes and furrow lines on his forehead. He looks like he's hasn't slept at all. "Didn't you sleep last night?" I ask him, trying not to let my mother hear. He shakes his head sadly as Mom turns around, holding the mugs of tea.

Peeta and I each accept a mug and sit down at the table, digging into the delicious muffins and fresh cheese buns that he brought over. We listen to Prim talk about how much fun she had at the party last night, and school and Rory and her goat, Lady. Peeta asks all the correct questions and even pulls my mom into the conversation several times. I sit mainly in silence, clutching my mug of tea like it's my lifeline.

After all of the cheese buns are gone and Prim is done picking up every last crumb of muffin off of her plate, my mother announces that she needs to go and make her rounds in the Seam. Apparently there's a bunch of Seam children that have come down with some sort of summer flu, along with two women who are due with babies any day. Prim asks to accompany her, and after glancing between Peeta and me, she agrees. She gives me a hug before they leave. "Just be careful Katniss," she says, smiling kindly at Peeta before leading Prim out the door.

Peeta and I stand there awkwardly for a minute, not really sure what to do. "I missed you-," I start out.

"I couldn't sleep-," he says at the exact same time, which causes us both to laugh.

Peeta moves over to the couch and sits down. "Come and sit with me," he says, opening up his arms.

I don't hesitate for a second. I sit down next to him and he pulls me close and buries his face in my hair. Warmth radiates from the spot where his lips just touch my neck. It feels so good, so impossibly good. I can feel all of the tension from my nightmare ebbing away and that feeling of warmth and hunger building up. I feel him gently kiss my neck where his lips are, then work their up up to my jaw before finding mine. Immediately I feel that thing again. The sensation inside me grows warmer and spreads out from my chest, down through my body, out along my arms and legs to the tips of my being. I thought I was somewhat of an expert on hunger, but this is an entirely new kind.

The need for air causes us to reluctantly pull apart. Peeta rests his forehead against mine, panting slightly, his blue eyes dark and hooded. My fingers have found those downy soft hairs at the back of his neck. We stay like that for who knows how long.

It's Peeta who breaks the silence first. "Come for a walk with me?" he asks, giving me a smile that's so sweet with just the right touch of shyness. "I want to bring you to the bakery."

"Okay," I answer him, smiling.

He takes my hand and we exit the house and Victor's Village, making our way towards Town. I don't know why I feel nervous all of a sudden; I've made this walk into Town many times. But those times I was just Katniss, a poor girl from the Seam trying to keep her family alive by hunting illegally and trading her game at the Hob and the back doors of the Merchant shops for necessities. Now I'm Katniss, Hunger Games Victor and one-half of the star-crossed lovers of District 12, who can afford to buy anything I wanted in these shops. And I'm holding Peeta's hand. Peeta, who's family is Merchant and is therefore well known in Town. I can see people milling about the Square going about their business as we pass. Some of them stop to stare at us, while others wave and keep going. It's unnerving. And we still haven't seen Peeta's mother at all.

I shiver despite the sunny day and Peeta brings his arm to my waist and pulls me gently into him. "Are you cold?" he asks.

I shake my head, leaning into him. "No," I croak out. "Just a little nervous. Do you know why your family didn't show up at the party last night?"

Peeta sighs. "No, but I have a feeling that my mother had something to do with it.  I guess we'll find out soon," he says as he looks up, indicating that we've arrived at the bakery. I boldly reach up and pull his head down to me for a quick kiss. When he pulls back Peeta looks shocked, but in a good way. He grins and takes my hand as we enter the bakery.

I really don't remember if I've ever been in through the front door of the bakery before. Every now and then after school Prim would ask me to bring her here to look through the windows. She loves to look at all the pretty displays of the cakes and cookies and pastries, things we could never afford. And I've been trading with the baker since I was 12 years old, but that was always at the back door. I've never walked through the front door like a paying customer. Like I was someone who mattered.

A little bell rings as we walk through the front door. I see a blond head behind the counter arranging cookies on a tray. "I'll be right with you!" he says, not looking up from the tray.

Peeta snorts next to me. "Need some help there Rye?" he asks, his voice playful and light.

Rye Mellark's head snaps up so fast I'm surprised he didn't hurt himself. "Peet!" he stammers out. "And Katniss!" he adds, looking over to me. Is that concern I see in his expression? "We weren't expecting to see you guys here today."

"What's going on?" Peeta asks, starting to look concerned himself. I tighten my hand around his.

Rye looks quickly at the door behind him that leads to the back of the bakery, then back at us. "Mom's in the office working on the books right now," he whispers loudly. "You guys may want to come back again later today. She'll be gone all afternoon and we can talk then."

Hurt flashes across Peeta's face but he hides it quickly. "Does she even know that I'm back now?" he asks, sarcasm thick in his voice and making my heart ache for him. What kind of person is his mother?

"Believe me, she knows," Rye replies, sighing deeply. "Look, I'm sorry we didn't make it to the party last night. I really wanted to go too, I've never been inside the Mayor's house before. But it was probably better than we weren't there. Mom was ranting and raving so much I'm sure she would have embarrassed you, or worse." He looks back down at the tray of cookies. "I'm sorry Peet," he says guiltily. "Dad and Bannock were both pretty upset about not going."

"Well, at least there's that," Peeta says glumly, tugging on my hand to turn us back towards the door. "We'll come back later then."

Rye nods. "Anytime after 2 pm should be fine," he says as we reach the door.

"Sounds good," Peeta throws over his shoulder as we exit back out into the Square.


	9. Mr. and Mrs. Mellark

PPOV

Katniss doesn't say anything as we leave the bakery and head into the Square. She seems pensive about something. I stop on the sidewalk next to the shoe shop and turn to look at her. She won't meet my eyes, so I put my other hand under her chin and try to lift her head up.

"Katniss, look at me," I say, a pleading note in my voice. 

"This is my fault," she says bitterly. "Your mom won't talk to you because of me. None of your family came last night to celebrate the fact that you're still alive because of me. All I've done is make your family life miserable!" She scowls and still won't meet my eyes.

"Now you stop right there," I say firmly, now with both of my hands on her face, begging her silently to look at me. "My family life was always pretty miserable, so you didn't change anything there." I try to make it sound like sort of a joke, but it fails badly and Katniss just scowls harder. "I mean, my brothers and I always got along okay, but my mom has always been like this, and it's nothing that you did." 

Katniss finally looks up at me. Her scowl slowly changes to a look of determination and I can practically see the wheels turning in her head. She nods suddenly and grabs my hand again, dragging me back towards the bakery.

"C'mon," she says. "We're going to talk to your parents right now." 

I gulp, not expecting this reaction from her. "Why?" I ask.

She turns back around to face me. "Because you shouldn't have to hide from your own mother. Because she's supposed to love you and be happy that you're still alive instead of ignoring you. Because it's wrong for her to treat you the way that she does." 

Her hand goes up to my cheek and rubs it gently, right where the bruise was 5 years ago. "And," she continues, her voice full of venom now, "I want to tell her exactly that, just maybe not quite that bluntly." I can't help but to laugh at the last part of her statement.

My laughter fades though as I study her face. She is absolutely serious, and I can feel my heart soaring. No one, not my closest childhood friends, not my brothers, not even my own father, have ever stood up for me against my mother. Not when she would scream and yell, not when she would slap and scratch, and, once I got older, when she would reach for the rolling pin. My father would come in afterward, to clean me up and pat my shoulder and tell me that it wasn't my fault. My brothers protected me some while I was small, but once I grew to their size that stopped, since they didn't want to get hit any more than I did. I would try to excuse the bruises and scratches away with stories about wrestling, or play-fighting with my brothers, but deep down I think more people knew about what went on that would admit.

"Are you sure?" I ask. I was hoping today would be a nice break from all of the hubbub, and a confrontation with my mom doesn't exactly fit that plan. We still have another interview and fancy dinner scheduled for tonight, along with Parcel Day tomorrow, which will be an all-day event.

Katniss nods, her face set and fierce looking like a mama bear protecting her cubs. She senses my hesitation and stands up on her tiptoes to kiss me, her second spontaneous kiss for the day. It's chaste but sweet and when she smiles and grabs my hand again, I'm feeling more brave. 

"All right then, lets go." 

Rye looks up in surprise from the display cases as we enter the bakery for the second time. "What are you guys doing back here?" he asks, taking in the expression on Katniss's face and raising his eyebrows.

Katniss tugs me towards the back of the bakery. "We're here to talk to your parents," she says as the door closes behind us. Just before it closes I can hear Rye whistle in surprise. I chuckle a little as I realize he probably wishes that he could watch whatever is about to happen in here.

Dad has his back to us pulling something out of the ovens when we arrive and I can see Mom's silhouette through the frosted window of the office. Katniss and I stop by the mixing counter and Dad jumps a little when he sees us. "Peeta! Katniss!" he says, wiping his hands on his apron and walking towards us. He claps me on the shoulder and pulls Katniss into a quick hug. "What are you two up to today?" he asks us, his voice uncharacteristically cheerful.

"We stopped by to see Mom, actually," I say firmly, sounding a lot more sure of myself than I feel and squeezing Katniss's hand for comfort. I hate how even being in the same room as her makes me so unsure of myself; makes me feel like that 7-year old boy who dropped an entire tray of cookies on the floor after he tripped over his shoelaces and begged his mom to stop screaming at him, after she slapped him so hard he fell over. That same little boy who at just barely 12 years old begged his mother unashamedly to not call the Peacekeepers and instead burned two loves of expensive fruit and nut bread to throw to the starving girl out in the rain who's singing voice made the birds stop to listen. I can feel my palms start to sweat and my heart is pounding. This is a horrible idea.

"Yes," Katniss pipes up, sounding very formal. Effie would be so proud of her. "Is Mrs. Mellark here? We missed all of you at the party last night." Katniss looks pointedly at my father during the last part of her statement. 

Dad has the decency to look ashamed for a minute. "Yes well, Peeta's mother wasn't feeling well..." he starts to say as the silhouette behind the window starts to move and my mom comes into view.

I can see her shock at the sight of us and then her back stiffens and her lips purse. "You," she spits out venomously, looking between Katniss and I. "What are you doing here, and what is she doing here with you?" Her eyes travel down to our clasped hands and her lips tighten up even more. 

"Hello Mother," I say evenly, trying not to look or sound like a scared little boy. Cowering before my mother right now won't do either of us any favors. "Did you know we got home yesterday?" I ask, trying to sound innocent instead of sarcastic.

My mother's lips tighten so much that they practically disappear. She huffs a couple of times before answering. "Of course I did, I'm not stupid!" she snaps. 

"We were wondering why you weren't at the party last night?" Katniss asks, her voice dripping with false sincerity. "Peeta and I were looking forward to seeing his family there to help celebrate our victory." She emphasizes the word 'our' by leaning against me briefly. 

My mother's attention turns to Katniss, staring at her like she can't believe Katniss was capable of putting together a complete sentence, much less have the gall to refer to our relationship.

Oh how I wish Effie could see this. Katniss is the picture of Capitol snobbery right now and my mother has no idea what to do with her. In my mother's eyes, Katniss and Haymitch and all other Seam folks are savages, barely above animals, and are certainly not well-groomed, polite, or even worthy of being seen inside an establishment owned by a Merchant, much less be holding hands with one. "Seam brats," she would call them, often chasing away children with her broomstick when they would come around pressing their noses against the outside windows, or the more unfortunate ones when they would be digging through the trash in the back looking for scraps.

Mother blinks a couple of times, still trying to figure out how answer her when Katniss continues. "There were so many photographers there, and so many people from the Capitol who were looking forward to meeting all of you!" Her voice has taken on an almost Effie-like pitch now and it's all I can do to stifle my chuckle under the pretense of clearing my throat. I can hear a similar reaction coming from behind me as Rye has apparently snuck into the room at some point during this conversation. 

Clearing my throat again, I pick up where Katniss left off. "Yes, I know Effie and Haymitch especially were looking forward to meeting you last night." I say, the same false sincerity dripping from my voice. I feel Katniss tighten her fingers around mine. "I know Haymitch was hoping to catch up with you both," I continue, looking up at my father who's trying unsuccessfully to hide a smirk. "Didn't you all go to school together?"

"I wasn't feeling well," my mother finally snaps, glancing around the room like a cornered animal. "As a matter of fact, I'm still not quite well, so I think I'll go upstairs and lie down for a moment. I think you both know your way out..." Then she sweeps past us without another word and stomps up the stairs. Once the distant door slams Rye immediately breaks out into a huge boisterous laugh. I can't help but break into a smile at the sound of it. This is definitely not how I thought this would go.

Rye is laughing so hard he starts dabbing at his eyes. "Oh my god," he finally gets out. "That was incredible! I mean really, have you ever seen any other time when Mom was struck speechless?" he exclaims. 

He turns to look at Katniss, who is still scowling in the general direction of the stairs. "You are amazing and welcome here anytime," he says to her, with genuine admiration in his voice. He claps me hard on the shoulder again. "You got a good one there, Peet," he says, shaking his head and moving to clap Katniss on the shoulder, thankfully less forceful than mine. "You better keep her around for a while." 

"Don't you worry about that, Rye," I answer, lightly squeezing Katniss's hand again. "I intend to."

"All right, all right," my father cuts in. While he's not laughing like Rye there is a definite twinkle in his eyes as he speaks to us. He turns to his middle son. "Rye, why don't you take a break for a while," he says, taking off his baking apron and reaching for the one he wears while out in the front. "I think Katniss and Peeta deserve to hear the real explanation for our absence last night." 

Rye whips his apron off so quickly I'm surprised that he doesn't tear it, quickly grabs a few cookies from the table, and leads Katniss and I out through the back door. We sit down under the apple tree; the same tree where Katniss had collapsed in the rain all those years ago.


	10. A Talk with Rye

KPOV 

Rye leads us out the back door of the bakery to the old apple tree in the backyard. We sit down in the grass and share the cookies that he grabbed and talk about the weather and the bakery for a few minutes. I'm finding that I really like Rye as I listen to him. He's the same age as Gale, so they were in the same class at school. I can remember Gale making a few not-so-nice remarks about him while hunting a few times. Apparently Gale and Rye used to have some sort of unofficial contest between them to see who could charm the most girls to the slag heap before they finished school, and Rye won. This did not help endear the Merchant family to Gale at all, and the two boys have always had a mutual dislike for each other. I wonder if this is part of the reason why Gale seemed to automatically dislike Peeta so much.

Once we finish the cookies, which while yummy are no where near as good as I know Peeta can make, Rye stops his tirade about how his mother is pestering him to find a "proper" girl to settle down with and turns to me. 

"So," he begins, the same twinkle in his eyes that I saw in Peeta's father earlier, "that was quite the display back there with Mom." I feel my face scowling and Peeta's hand on my back. 

"Yes, well she's lucky I'm in a good mood today," I grumble. 

Peeta and Rye both chortle. "I'd hate to see you in a bad mood then!" Rye says before turning to Peeta. "Don't ever piss her off, okay?" 

Peeta chuckles again and rubs my back. "I'm not going to try to!" he says, kissing me lightly on the cheek.

"So anyway, were you guys really upset that we weren't there last night?" Rye asks. 

Peeta looks troubled. "It was mostly embarrassing actually," he says, looking down at the ground and picking at the grass with his free hand. "Pretty much the rest of the Merchants were there and everyone was asking where you guys were, and I had no idea. And Effie kept asking me when you guys were going to show up because she was hoping for a family picture or something..." His voice trails off and he rips up more of the grass. "I mean, Katniss's sister was even there." 

Rye looks guilty at that. "Believe me, I really wanted to go, little brother," he says. "I've never been inside the Mayor's house before, and I wouldn't have minded getting to talk to Madge either," he adds with a bit of swagger in his voice. "Man, she's a looker!" My eyebrows shoot up as he mentions Madge. Apparently Rye had made his way through the entire group of girls in the district his own age and was moving younger now. 

"Rye!" Peeta snaps at him. "This is not about you!" he says, starting to look angry. "So quit peacocking and tell us what happened!"

"Okay, okay," Rye says, holding his hands in surrender. He takes a deep breath before continuing.

"So there was some important Capitol person who stopped by yesterday morning before your train arrived, and he was giving us instructions on how the homecoming was supposed to go at the station. Well, Mom wasn't too happy about the fact that just anyone from the district was invited; she thought it should have been families only. So when she heard that she said was going to stay behind at the bakery and keep it open instead of going to the train station. Dad didn't feel like arguing with her, so we left her here." He pauses to take a couple of deep breaths.

"So then during the afternoon, once Dad and I got back to the bakery, I was out doing a couple of deliveries when apparently Mrs. Cartwright came in and started talking to Mom." 

Mrs. Cartwright? I must look puzzled for a second because Peeta pipes up. "It's Delly's mother, and she likes to talk and gossip even more than Delly does," he says and grimaces. 

I shudder. Delly was, I suppose, what you could call a nice girl, meaning that she was very friendly and would talk to just about anyone about anything. She just never seemed to realize when people didn't want to talk to her. I could only tolerate her in small doses; I can't imagine how Peeta's mom would be around someone like that.

"Anyway," Rye continues. "Mrs. Cartwright came in and started talking to Mom about the welcome at the train station, and apparently couldn't shut up about how good Katniss's mother looked since 'they hadn't seen her much since she married that Seam man all those years ago', and how pretty Prim was and how she must be the prettiest girl in her class since Lilly was the prettiest girl in their class and how all the boys used to ogle her, and how sweet Katniss and Peeta looked when they got off the train and on and on and on...". 

"Oh no." Peeta puts his hand on his forehead and shaking his head. "And me mentioning how Dad used to have a crush on Katniss's mom during the Games probably didn't go over real well either, did it?" he says, pretty much already knowing the answer. I shudder again and Peeta pulls me closer to him. 

"Umm, no," Rye agrees, shuddering along with me. "Mom made Dad sleep on the couch for a week after that one, Peet." 

"Oops," Peeta says, grimacing. "In my defense, I shouldn't be held responsible for things I said when I was half-dead." He winks and looks down at me.

I elbow him in the side. "Oh really?" I ask playfully. "We had quite a few conversations while you were feverish in that cave. Which ones are you not wanting responsibility for now?" I am amazed at how easily the bantering is coming from me. I'm still not used to talking more often than is absolutely necessary, but these sweet Mellark boys seem to be able to draw me out like no one ever has since my father was alive. Peeta chuckles again and hugs me quickly.

"Anyway," Rye continues. "Yeah, she pretty much wouldn't stop ranting and raving about 'Seam trash' and how humiliated she felt and how she wouldn't ever set foot anywhere where there was a chance that 'that woman' would be there and if her husband was a 'true man' he would stand up for his wife and it was pretty much decided that it would be better if we didn't go to the party. Bannock and Casey were pretty disappointed too." Rye looks guiltily at Peeta again. "I'm sorry baby brother. I honestly didn't think it would bother you so much."

Peeta takes a deep breath, picking at the grass again. "I'm actually surprised at how much it did bother me," he says, squeezing me close again. "And Katniss's mom didn't even end up going anyway, so Mom wouldn't have had to worry about running into her there. I guess I just thought that maybe, since I actually did survive the Hunger Games, that maybe she would be proud of me, if only for a little while."

My heart nearly breaks as he finishes and I move to wrap both of my arms around him. Rye even looks sad. "Buddy, I don't think there's anything any of us can do to make her proud of us," he says, trying to be reassuring. "She's just a miserable bitch of a woman, and no one can do anything about that." 

Peeta sighs and I hug him tighter. He pats my hand and nods, trying to indicate that he's okay I think, but I know he's not. I know what abandonment feels like; my father was killed and my mother basically abandoned me and Prim. I don't know which way would be worse, but the hurt must feel similar.

Mr. Mellark comes to the door then and calls Rye back inside. "The afternoon rush will be starting soon and the display cases need refilling," he says as we all lumber back up to our feet. 

"Thanks Rye," Peeta says. Rye nods, brushing dirt and grass off of his work pants. 

"Do you want some help with the cases?" Peeta asks. I think he misses working in the bakery, even despite his mother. Or maybe he just misses doing things that are familiar to him, like I miss hunting. I need to go hunting soon.

"You should come over for dinner later this week!" I blurt out all of a sudden, saving Rye from answering. Peeta and Rye stare at me with shocked looks on their faces. Even I'm shocked. "Please?" I say, a little quieter this time. "I can even see if Madge would like to join us, if you like," I add, giving Rye a little wink. What the hell is wrong with me?! I don't wink, and I've certainly never cared about the romantic status of anyone else before.

Both Peeta and Rye are still staring at me with their jaws hanging open. Rye seems to recover a little quicker and starts to blush. "S-sure!" he sputters out. Peeta's still staring at me in awe. "Yeah!" Rye says, recovering a bit more of his composure. "Anytime! Just let me know when and where and I'll be there!" He backs toward the bakery and stumbles as his feet reach the steps. "I'll see you guys later!" he says, and rushes back into the bakery, the door slamming behind him.

Peeta is staring at the back door, then shakes his head and turns to look at me. "What was that?" he asks, chuckling. 

I shrug. "I just thought it would be nice for me to get to know him better. He is your brother," I say, nudging Peeta with my shoulder. 

He puts his arm around my shoulders and hugs me to him, kissing my forehead. "And what's with inviting Madge? Is Katniss Everdeen, lethal goddess of the woods, trying to play matchmaker for my brother?" 

I shrug again. "I don't know, he seemed interested in her," I say as we walk around the bakery back towards the Square. "Maybe she'll actually say yes." Peeta laughs and hugs me again and we start walking back through Town and towards Victor's Village.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was always sad that Madge was left out of the Hunger Games movies, and sad that we never even met anyone in Peeta's family in the movies, so both Madge and Rye will have pretty major roles in my story. :)


	11. Parcel Day

KPOV

Effie, Octavia, and Flavius are sitting at the kitchen table with my mother and Prim when Peeta and I arrive back at my house. "There you are!" Effie exclaims, so loudly that my mother jumps a little. "We were just about ready to send out a search party! It's time for you both to get ready for your interview and dinner tonight." 

Oh yay. More talking, more flashbulbs, more pretending to care about what people in the Capitol think of us. "We were just visiting with Peeta's family for a while, Effie," I say, trying to sound teasing. "District 12 isn't really big enough to hide in." 

Effie stares at me for a few seconds and then bursts out laughing. "That's very true!" she says, still giggling. "Your district is rather quaint, isn't it?"

Peeta and I stare at her. Quaint is hardly the word I would use to describe District 12, but before I can say anything else my mother pipes up. "Let me go upstairs and get your bath ready, Katniss?" she says. "And I'm sure Peeta needs to start getting ready also?" she adds, turning to Peeta and smiling. Peeta nods quickly and agrees, quickly pecking me on the cheek before turning to leave for his own house. I watch him go and I can hear my prep team sighing dreamily behind me. 

"You're so lucky Katniss," Octavia gushes as she marches me up the stairs to my bedroom. "Not only did you win the Hunger Games and get to live in this beautiful house, you managed to snag Peeta too! There are so many of us who think he's so handsome!" 

She starts chortling so hard that Flavius joins in, both of them too caught up in their own amusement to notice that I don't join in with their laughter. The notion that anyone could think I went into the Hunger Games intending to come out with a romance makes me scowl.

For the next hour I'm washed and scrubbed and primped and prodded until I meet their satisfaction. Cinna unfortunately had to return to the Capitol already so Octavia helps me into my dress for the evening and styles my hair. My dress is a steel-grey color tonight, with pink accents and matching grey shoes. When I'm finished getting dressed I head back downstairs to wait for Peeta before heading over to the Justice Building where the interview and dinner will be held. Peeta looks very handsome in a grey suit just a couple of shades darker than my dress, his hair styled up off of his forehead and a matching pink handkerchief peeking out of the pocket of his jacket. He offers me his arm as we walk and I can hear Effie sniffing behind us about how much of a gentleman he is. I cling to his arm tightly, drawing the support from him that only he can give me.

The interview is thankfully rather short, and the dinner as intimate as we've had so far since our return home, with just the Mayor and Mrs. Undersee and a couple of his close advisors along with a few Capitol officials and the interviewer and camera crew from the Capitol in attendance. Madge is also there, and after the dessert dishes are picked up from the table I excuse myself briefly to freshen up, giving Madge a look as I leave the table. 

I'm sitting on the plush chair in the ladies room rubbing my feet when Madge arrives. "We only have a few minutes," she says. "Dad seemed a little suspicious when I excused myself right after you. What's up?" 

Not one to beat around the bush, I get right to the point. "Peeta and I went to talk to his family today," I say. "We were talking to his brother about why they didn't come to the party at your house last night." 

"Which brother?" Madge asks a little too quickly. I can see a blush forming on her cheeks. 

"Rye," I answer passively, "why?" Understanding dawns on me. "Oh! Do you like him too?"

"Too?" Madge answers way too fast. "What do you mean, too?" 

"Rye mentioned you in our conversation this afternoon," I say, starting to giggle at the blush on Madge's face. "He said one reason why he was bummed that they didn't make the party was that he was looking forward to getting to talk to you." 

"Really? He said that?" Madge's face was as red as a strawberry now. 

"Good grief Madge!" I admonish. "I didn't know you even knew who he was!" 

"Of course I know who he is!" she exclaims. "His reputation as a ladies man is pretty well known around Town." She's still blushing.

"And you still like him?" I ask, confused. Thank goodness Peeta has no such reputation, I think quickly to myself. I'm apparently not the forgiving type like Madge is.

"Well," she says sheepishly, playing with the end of one the ribbons on her dress. "I always sort of thought that him being a player was his way of acting out against his mom. His way of rebelling, so to speak," she finishes, yanking again on the ribbon.

I raise my eyebrows. "Does everyone in Town know about how Mrs. Mellark treats her sons?" I ask, cringing. Poor Peeta, growing up with a mother like that and everyone knowing about it, but doing nothing to stop it. 

"It's a pretty badly kept secret," Madge says sadly. "And anyway, I've never heard anything about Peeta going to the slag heap with anyone, so you should be fine." Now it's my turn to blush. 

"That's good," I say quickly. I shake my head. "Anyway," I continue, "after our conversation this afternoon with Rye I told him I'd like him to come over for dinner sometime this week, and I said I'd see if you would want to come also."

Madge's eyes widen and her face splits into a grin. "Yes, I'd love to!" she says. "Thank you Katniss!"

"You're welcome," I say, standing up in my stocking feet and giving her a hug. "It's the least I can do after you gave me that gold mockingjay pin. It really was good luck for me!" 

Madge hugs me quickly again. "But now you better head back to the dinner," she says, pointing to my shoes lying discarded on the floor. I nod and sigh as I jam my sore feet back into the pinchy shoes and head back to the dinner table.

"What took you so long?" Peeta whispers to me as I slide back into my chair at the table. Mayor Undersee is sipping coffee, deep in conversation with the man who interviewed us.

"Madge and I were talking a little," I say, leaning towards him. "Did you know that she has a crush on your brother?"

Peeta raises his eyebrows. "Really?" he says, shaking his head. "He'd better watch himself, because if my mom hears that she'll never leave him alone about it." 

I cringe. I can only imagine how high and mighty Peeta's mother would become if one of her sons managed to marry the Mayor's daughter. "Maybe it's better that she doesn't like me," I whisper to him. 

Peeta chuckles and puts his arm around my shoulders. "We only have Parcel Day left tomorrow," he says. "Then I maybe can finally take you out on a date like a normal gentleman!"

The thought of spending time alone with Peeta, just sitting and talking about normal things sounds so appealing right now that the rest of the evening flies by while I daydream about it. When the dinner is over Peeta walks me back to my door and sweetly kisses me goodnight, saying he was going to stop by and check on Haymitch before heading home for the night. I have a feeling he's trying to avoid going straight home to his empty house and my heart lurches. I want desperately to grab his hand, pull him into my room, and tuck him into bed with me so we can both get some sleep. But I know I can't.

The next day is Parcel Day, a welcome respite from all of the district's attention being solely on Peeta and me. Peeta shows up at my house in the morning bearing freshly baked goods and a smile on his handsome face, trying to hide the fatigue that's building up. Today he's brought over drop biscuits and cinnamon rolls, causing Prim to squeal and my mother to look wistful, like she's remembering something nice.

After breakfast Peeta and I walk hand-in-hand over to the Justice Building. Mayor Undersee greets us there, along with Madge and a couple of the Capitol officials that have been present at all of our Victor functions so far. One of them, a big burly man with not-quite natural pink-toned skin and bright red hair explains the procedure for handing out the parcel boxes. Already the residents of District 12 are starting to line up at the foot of the steps of the Justice Building, their excitement palpable.

This Parcel Day is the first one of twelve, in which food packages are delivered to each person in the district. The coal mines and the Square shops are closed for the day. There are men playing fiddles and people dancing in the streets in front of the Justice Building as Peeta and I hand out the packages to the families. This is the first time when my smiles for the Capitol cameras are authentic. To see all those hungry kids in the Seam running around waving fresh fruits and real butter, whole chickens and eggs, even candies and chocolate was one of the times when we felt like winning the Games was worth it. 

It's evening by the time we finish handing out the boxes and Peeta and I are both exhausted and hungry. Effie has us take a few pictures with the Mayor and the important Capitol person who was responsible for organizing the parcels. Then she spends the next 30 minutes lecturing us on "proper Victor behavior" and says that she will see us again in a few months, right before the start of the Victory Tour, but that if we need anything before then we can always call her. And then she takes her high heels and her sparkly outfits and her wigs and walks toward the train station where a train is waiting to return her to the Capitol, the camera people and newspeople following along. Peeta and I just stand there on the steps of the Justice Building watching them leave. As soon as they are out of sight it's like a weight is lifted off our shoulders, and we turn to each other at the same time and hug.

"Now we can just be us for a while," Peeta says against my hair, not letting go of me. I close my eyes and inhale his scent. I'm too caught up in his embrace to care that we're still in full view of most of District 12. Before the Games I would have shrank away at any indication of affection unless it was from Prim. But now, my body seems to crave being close to Peeta. I don't want to just be near him, I feel the need to be physically touching him in some way nearly all the time. I want his hand in mine, or his arm around my shoulders or my waist holding me close to him. I want to run my hands over his strong arms and back, and I want to play with those tiny hairs on the back of his neck and bury my hands in his thick blond hair. 

The Square is completely empty and the sun is starting to set by the time I open my eyes again. We've been standing there for at least 20 minutes. I tug gently on Peeta's hair. "Come over to my house for a while, I'll bet my mother's made dinner," I whisper into his ear. Peeta kisses my forehead and nods, grabbing my hand and leaning me back to Victor's Village.


	12. Haymitch

PPOV 

The sun has almost completely set by the time we make it back to Victor's Village. Mrs. Everdeen and Prim are sitting on the couch in the living room watching TV when Katniss and I get back to her house. Mrs. Everdeen jumps up as soon as she sees us and hugs us both.

"I was starting to get worried," she says, leading us into the kitchen. "You both must be starving." Katniss and I both nod and she busies herself getting us bowls of stew and some of the leftover biscuits from this morning. I'm so hungry that I devour my food quickly. Katniss though takes a few bites and frowns. 

"What's in this stew?" she asks her mother. 

Mrs. Everdeen frowns slightly. "I used some of the butcher meat that was in the freezer when we moved in," she says. "It probably came from District 10."

I chuckle as I see her scowling. "I'm going to go hunting tomorrow," she says, taking another bite and scowling at her spoon. "This reminds me too much of the Capitol food."

I frown a little. I know Katniss can handle herself just fine out there in the woods, but I can't help but to think that now she's a Victor that she and I both will be watched more closely somehow. That plus the fact that I feel very protective of her now. I reach for her hand. 

"Just be careful, please," I tell her. I can tell it's on the tip of her tongue to tell me off for being overprotective, but she stops herself and squeezes my hand in response.

After the dinner dishes are cleared up, I volunteer to take some food over to Haymitch. We haven't seen him in a couple of days and somehow I feel responsible for him now, since he did keep both Katniss and I alive in the arena. Katniss offers to go with me.

Haymitch's house, although identical to mine and Katniss's and taken care of by the same Capitol-supplied groundskeeper, exudes an air of neglect and abandonment. Katniss and I brace ourselves at his front door before pushing our way in.

My nose immediately wrinkles in disgust. I grew up in a bakery, where the smell of fresh breads, cookies, and pastries was so ever-present that it got to the point where I almost didn't notice it anymore. Since we've moved into Victor's Village my own house has taken to smelling like a bakery with all of my late night baking adventures designed to help keep the nightmares at bay. And Katniss's house always smells like whatever tincture or ointment her mom has been compounding during the day. Haymitch's house smells like the one time our school janitor forgot to wash our wrestling uniforms for a week, combined with the stench of vomit and white liquor. It's so awful that my eyes start to water.

We make our way to the kitchen, trying to avoid the many liquor bottles littering the floor, to where Haymitch is passed out cold, sprawled across his kitchen table and snoring loudly.

I poke him roughly in the shoulder. "Haymitch, wake up!" I say, rather loudly. "Katniss and I brought you some dinner!" Haymitch grunts but keeps snoring. We poke him a few more times and Katniss is just about ready to douse him with a bucket of cold water when he finally stirs, lifting his head and looking at us with disgust as his eyes try to focus.

"What the hell are you guys doing in here?" he says, grappling along the table blindly, probably looking for his liquor bottle.

"We brought you some dinner, Haymitch," I repeat, sighing as I look through his kitchen trying to find a clean spoon for him to use. Haymitch just grunts again, but accepts the bowl of stew and biscuits greedily. 

We sit in silence while he finishes his meal. After washing it down with a generous swig of white liquor, he belches loudly and looks closely at Katniss and I, like he just realized that we were still there.

"So," he says. "What's this?" he asks, sounding suspicious and gesturing between the two of us with his spoon.

Instinctively I reach for Katniss's hand. "We're together," I say proudly. Katniss smiles and blushes, causing Haymitch to raise his eyebrows.

"Well then, that changes things a bit, don't you think?" he says, taking another swig of liquor.

"What do you mean?" I say, a bit more harshly than I intend. 

Haymitch just shakes his head, his messy hair falling into his eyes. "Look," he says. "You already know that the Capitol isn't exactly happy with the two of you, especially you." He points to Katniss and my hand instinctively tightens around hers. 

"Now that the cameras are gone for a while it'll be easier," he continues. "You two can do," he pauses, gesturing between the two of us, "whatever you're going to do. Just be mindful of what you talk about. The Capitol has ways of finding out things, and I know you don't want anything to happen to either of your families."

My heart leaps into my throat and Katniss's face blanches white. "What should we do?" she asks, no doubt thinking of Prim and her mother. 

Haymitch waves carelessly. "Nothing right now," he says. "Just go about your normal life right now. All of Panem thinks you're in love so be in love. Just don't do too much of the mushy stuff around me," he finishes, taking another swig. 

Katniss tightens her fingers around mine. "That part is the easy part," I say. "Should we be watching what we say or do? What about Katniss? Should she still go hunting?" I can feel her scowling next to me. I'm not dumb enough to think that I can tell her what to do, but if it's for her own safety...

"No, no," Haymitch says, waving his arm dismissively again. "Just go about your normal business, because that's what they would expect. It's the unexpected that gets their attention."

I take a deep breath, as deep as I can in the foul air permeating this house, and nod. "Okay then," I say. "We'll just go about our business as usual then unless you tell us otherwise."

"Sounds good," Haymitch says and belches again. He hands Katniss back the bowl from the stew. "Thanks for the food." Katniss nods and tugs on my hand for us to leave.

It's completely dark outside now and the moon is high. As we cross the street back to her house, Katniss clinging to my hand tightly and Haymitch's warning ringing in my ears, I make a silent promise that I will do everything in my power to protect this girl and her family. This girl, who I've loved for practically my whole life and who means more to me than my own.

As we reach Katniss's door her mother opens it from inside. "I think it's time for bed now Katniss," she says, gently but firmly. "If you're going hunting tomorrow you need some sleep." Katniss rolls her eyes and sighs but doesn't argue. I try not to show my disappointment at being dismissed. Instead, I take her face gently between my hands and lean down for a kiss. 

"Goodnight Katniss," I whisper, looking deep into her silver eyes shining in the moonlight, trying to convey to her without words what I know she's not ready to hear yet. I think she understands because she gulps and nods quickly.

"Goodnight Peeta," she answers. I squeeze her hand one more time and turn to leave. She watches me cross the street again, and we wave one more time before our respective doors close behind us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to thank you all for the kind words of encouragement that I've received! I really appreciate them!


	13. A Talk with Hazelle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More fluff. ;)

KPOV

I'm awake long before the sun comes up, grabbing my father's old leather hunting jacket and my game bag and heading out across the meadow to the fence. When I reach it I listen carefully for the hum that would indicate that the fence was electrified, but, not surprisingly, hear nothing. I quickly shimmy underneath and pause for a minute once I reach the other side, gulping in the free air. Oh how I've missed it out here!

Moving to the hollow log where I keep my bow and arrows, I make my way silently through the woods, marveling at it's beauty. The arena was woods too, but I could tell the difference between the Capitol-constructed version and this real one. The arena never smelled right to me. I inhale deeply again, taking in the scents of pine and damp leaves.

I quickly manage to bag two fat rabbits, three nice squirrels (the squirrels make me think of Peeta), and one large turkey. After skinning and cleaning them, I decide to take the rabbits to Gale's house and the turkey to the Hob. I'll keep the squirrels for myself and have my mother use them for dinner tonight.

The sun is rising through the trees once I finish prepping the meat, so I quickly clean off my arrows and store them and my bow back in the hollow log. The fence is still off, so I crawl back underneath and start back across the Meadow, heading for the Seam.

Walking along the path that leads to the Seam, I can still see the effects from Parcel Day yesterday. There isn't the almost overwhelming feeling of despair and hopelessness that always seems to cover the place, much like the layer of omnipresent coal dust. Children are laughing instead of crying, adults are greeting either other with happy smiles instead of pained glances. This is how life should be all the time, I think bitterly to myself. Not just when someone wins a game, and a most horrible game at that.

Shaking my head, I arrive at Gale's house. Of course he's not home; since he was 18 already and survived his last Reaping, right after the Games ended he took his place on one of the 12 hours per day, six days a week mining crews. Hazelle and the younger children greet me warmly, inviting me in for tea. I try to decline at first, but Hazelle insists when I show her the rabbits, her pride rearing its ugly head so I agree reluctantly.

I enjoy talking with Hazelle. She became like a second mother to me after my father died, killing her husband in the same explosion. But unlike my mother who withdrew from the world for years following the death of her husband, nearly killing Prim and I in the process, Hazelle learned to survive on her own. She and Gale managed to keep themselves and three younger siblings fed and clothed, sometimes just barely, but nonetheless they all survived.

This line of thinking leads me to Peeta. It's funny to me now just how many things in my normal, daily life lead me to think of Peeta. Hazelle and Gale kept their family alive during that horrible time, but Peeta kept mine alive. Hazelle had her own strength that she shared with her children; Peeta gave me strength when I had run out of my own.

"These will taste nice tonight," she says, taking the rabbits and putting them into a cooler. "Gale doesn't have as much time for hunting how that he's in the mines so much."

The mention of Gale makes my scowl appear on my face. I still haven't forgiven him for what he said at the train station the morning we arrived home. Hazelle must see my thought process in my expression, because she reaches over and pats my hand.

"Gale didn't mean to say those things to you and Peeta," she says, her eyes flitting to mine before looking back down at her teacup. "I think he let his emotions run away from him."

Emotions? What emotions? "What?" I ask. Hazelle pats my hand again, her hand weathered and worn from years of washing other people's laundry.

"Oh Katniss," she says, like she's talking to Posy. "Gale's been looking at you like that for a long time, he just never said anything 'bout it. And then, watching you and the baker's son in the Games upset him, but then I think he managed to convince himself that it was all an act." Another pat on my hand.

"But I knew better," she continues. "I could tell watching the pair of you and how you looked at him that you weren't acting. You reminded me a lot of your Momma, and how she used to look at a certain coal miner's son."

I can feel my eyes widen in surprise. I hadn't ever thought about it, but I'll bet Hazelle was a witness to the whole thing with my mother and father, and Peeta's father. Only that story went the other way around. The nice Merchant girl expected to fall in love and marry the nice Merchant boy, but instead going against the class divide of District 12 by falling in love with a Seam boy.

And me, a Seam girl, probably expected by most to marry the Seam boy, but instead falls in love with the Merchant's son, again defying the class divide of the district. And all on national television. My stomach lurches and I clutch my teacup.

"I didn't know," I manage to stammer out. Hazelle looks at me with a knowing look.

"Gale never said anything to you, did he?" she asks. I shake my head.

"I think he was hoping you'd just come around someday," she says.

"I told him I never wanted to get married," I blurt out. "The morning of the Reaping."

Hazelle pats my hand again. "And now?" she asks.

I look up at her with wide eyes. I hadn't thought about it until now. "I, I don't know," I say, almost a whisper.

I'd never planned on getting married, because married people had kids. Kids who could grow up (if they didn't starve to death before then) and possibly get reaped. I couldn't imagine watching a child of mine be marched off to the Hunger Games, so it just made sense to never have to worry about it. But now...

Would I want to marry Peeta? I have no doubt that he would want to marry me someday. He probably wants children too. I try to imagine us being married, living in his house in Victor's Village, waking up to his smiling face and strong arms everyday and I smile immediately, a blush creeping up my face. Then I try to picture a little miniature Peeta, a little blond boy with grey eyes instead of blue and my smile gets even bigger. It's a nice picture, this fantasy in my head. But the children of Victors aren't exempt from the reapings, and in fact have been reaped several times over the years. The child of two Victors competing in his or her own Hunger Games surely would make for good television...

When I blink again I see Hazelle staring at me, again with that knowing look of hers. "You're a lot like your Momma, Katniss," she says. "She didn't plan on falling in love with your daddy, he just sort of crept up on her. Just like Peeta has with you."

I smile again at the mention of Peeta's name. Yes, he did just sort of creep up on me.

I finish my tea quickly and get up to leave, much to the chagrin of little Posy. Hazelle thanks me again for the rabbits, and I promise to come by every few days with more. She thinks for a second before agreeing. "Don't you worry about Gale, child," she says as I get to the front door. "He'll be fine."

"Thank you for the tea," I say as I kneel down to give Posy a hug goodbye. Hazelle nods and smiles before redirecting Posy back to the laundry washboard.

After dropping off the turkey with Greasy Sae in the Hob and purchasing a few peppermint candies for Peeta and a new ribbon for Prim, I slowly walk back towards Victor's Village, my mind swirling.

Gale's reaction at the train station makes a lot more sense now. My heart lurches a little at the thought of him watching Peeta and I in the cave back in the arena. I had no idea that Gale thought of me in any other way than a friend and hunting partner. He was always chasing so many other girls. I was never interested in boys, or so I thought. I try and think to any time when I'd thought about Gale when he wasn't around and I come up empty. Then I do the same for Peeta.

I remember seeing Peeta at school the day after he threw me the bread, and I immediately noticed the large welt on his cheek. I remember Madge dragging me to a few wrestling matches because she wanted to watch the boys in their tight outfits and noticing Peeta then. I remember glancing through the front windows of the bakery and seeing him throw a bag of flour onto his shoulder that must have weighed a 100 pounds or more. And more than once, I remember turning around in the hallway at school and catching Peeta's eyes trained on me, only to flit away quickly.

Somehow, I'd always kept track of the boy with the bread. My boy with the bread.

I arrive home with the squirrels to find a note from my mother, saying that she and Prim were seeing some patients in the Seam and would see me later, so I quickly head across the street to Peeta's house.

Peeta looks up in surprise as I enter his house, giving me a smile that makes my heart flutter.

"Back already?" he asks, moving from behind his kitchen counter to give me a hug. I hug him back tightly, not realizing how much I missed him.

"Yeah," I breathe out, giving him a quick kiss on his cheek before releasing him. "I got some squirrels for dinner tonight," I add, holding up my game bag.

"That sounds great!" he says, pecking me on the lips quickly. "Why don't I cook for us tonight, save your mother the trouble?" His enthusiasm is contagious and I find myself smiling widely.

"You're just trying to get in my mother's good graces," I tease him.

"Well, yeah!" he says laughing. "That's all part of my plan!" Then he hugs me close to him again and kisses my neck. Almost instantly my arms move around his neck and I sigh. That feeling of warmth and hunger is building up again. I move back to look into his blue eyes for a second before his lips meet mine. The kiss starts out like the others that we've shared, sweet and warm. But something is different this time too. Peeta seems to be moving his mouth more and I try to copy his movements. I feel him pull my bottom lip in between his own and I whimper. Then I feel his tongue running across my bottom lip and I gasp, opening my mouth against his and allowing him in.

This is still so new to me, these sensations that I get with Peeta. This is the most powerful kiss that we've shared yet. My whole body is tingling and warm. I whimper again and I hear Peeta do the same. By the time we break apart to catch our breaths we're both panting and I feel dizzy. Peeta presses his forehead to mine, his hands stroking my back lightly, his arms holding me tightly to him.

"I think I'll run home and change real quick," I whisper once I feel like I'm capable of speech again.

"Okay," Peeta rasps, "but hurry back." I nod quickly and we reluctantly let each other go.

I walk quickly back to my house and run up the stairs to my bathroom to shower. As I undress I take note of my reflection in the mirror. My face is flushed and my eyes look hooded. Then I look more closely at my body and I scowl. My breasts are small, and my hips aren't curvy like the Merchant girls who've always had enough to eat. What does Peeta see in me?

I shower quickly and dress in a comfortable looking pair of brown trousers and a simple green top. I'm braiding my hair back when I hear mother and Prim arrive home. I run down to tell them that Peeta offered to cook for all of us tonight. Prim squeals in delight and runs to her room to change quickly. Once she's out of the room my mother turns to me.

"I've never seen you like this before, Katniss," my mother starts, looking at me with serious eyes.

I freeze. "Like what?" I ask, still suspicious of my mother after she all but abandoned Prim and me to her grief.

"Like you're happy," she says. "I haven't seen you smile this much since before your father died." I can't help but smile at that, pretty much proving her point.

"Peeta makes me happy," I say, sounding silly I'm sure, but my brain is still a little scrambled from that kiss we shared earlier and I can't think of anything better to say.

My mother looks wistful for a moment before continuing. "Just promise me you'll be careful," she says.

My eyes narrow and then widen as I realize what she means. "But we haven't...".

"Not yet," she says, smiling softly. "But I remember what it was like to be young and in love, and have those kinds of feelings that you're having right now..." she pauses and looks away for a second. "And if Peeta's anything like his father, he'll be a perfect gentleman," she adds. "But please be careful nonetheless." I nod and allow her to hug me, but my mind is swirling again.

Does Peeta really see me that way? Do I make him feel like I feel when he kisses me? My guess would be yes, since he seems to enjoy it as much as I do. But does he really want to do... that, with me eventually? I try to imagine his hands running over my body like they have, only without my clothes on. My breath hitches in my throat and my heart skips a beat. I know something like that is still a long way down the road, maybe years down the road even, but I can't help but continue to think of how it wonderful it would feel as Prim comes back down the stairs and we turn to leave for Peeta's house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a couple more chapter pre-written, so I may not be able to update as often as I have been once those are posted. I have a bunch of chapters written that will come later in the story, so hopefully the fill-in chapters will come quickly. :)


	14. A Trip to the Hob

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those of you wondering where Gale has been, here he is! :)

KPOV 

Peeta's father would always trade generously for squirrels, and he must have taught Peeta how to cook them because his entire house smells delicious by the time I arrive back at his house with Mom and Prim in tow. There's a pot of stew simmering on the stove and rolls in the oven baking, and he's working on some sort of cake for dessert. Prim immediately asks if she can help him and he graciously agrees. 

After dinner Peeta decides to teach Prim how to play chess, a game that his grandfather had taught him when he was little. My mother pulls out her knitting, and I sit on the couch watching everyone, thankful for nothing to do and nowhere to be for a while. It's really nice to see how easily Peeta fits in with my family. Mother just seems to accept him like he's always been here, and Prim can't get enough of him. 

I think back to earlier today and that kiss we shared and I feel the warmth building in my chest. It makes me drowsy so I close my eyes and lay back a little on the couch.

The next thing I know I'm being shaken awake by my mom. "We should get home now, Katniss, it's getting late." 

I frown. "I was going to help with the dishes," I mumble, trying to get up on my feet. I don't remember the last time that I slept more than a few minutes without a nightmare.

"We've already done all the dishes," Prim says. "Peeta and I did, and we brought some food over to Haymitch's house too." Prim wrinkles her nose at the mention of Haymitch's house. "You were sleeping for almost two hours!" 

I nod, still trying to get my bearings. "We'll head on home and let you two say goodnight," Mom says, patting Peeta on the arm. "Thank you again for the lovely dinner, Peeta." 

Peeta beams proudly. "You're welcome," he says. "I'd love to do it more often." Mom nods and gestures for Prim to follow her.

Once they are out the door, Peeta wraps me in his arms. "I really wish you didn't have to leave," he says, his voice rough. "You looked so peaceful sleeping there on my couch, I wish your mom hadn't had to wake you!" 

"That was the best sleep I've had since we've been home," I say, holding him tight with my arms around his neck. "I don't want to leave either."

We stand there holding each other for a couple of minutes before Peeta kisses my head. "You'd better go," he whispers. "I'd like to stay in your mother's good graces." 

That's my Peeta, always trying to get me to smile. He walks me to his front porch and kisses me sweetly good night, then watches me as I walk across the street to my house, like he's making sure I make it there safely. I wave to him one more time before our respective doors close behind us.

As I walk slowly up the stairs to my bedroom though, the electric feeling coursing through my body that I've come to associate with Peeta is replaced with a feeling of dread. That nap I had at Peeta's house really was the best sleep I've had since we've been home, and I know there's no way of replicating it without him here. He hadn't even been holding me while I was napping; just being in his house, near him, seemed to be enough to keep the nightmares away for a while.

Every night the nightmares get worse and worse. I dream about mutts and dead children with spears sticking out of their bodies. I dream about Mrs. Mellark and her rolling pin, beating Peeta senseless while laughing. I dream of my father, rising up from the mine explosion, his clothes still burning and his hair singed. "How could you kill those children?" he asks me, looking at me with such disappointment. "They were just pieces in the Capitol's game." 

Mother and Prim try everything they can think of to help me. They try staying up late with me until I'm so exhausted that they have to practically drag me up to bed. They try waking me as soon as the nightmares start. Prim even spends a couple of nights sleeping in my bed with me, thinking that it will help like it used to before the Games. But she's not the one I need in the bed with me, and it doesn't help anyway.

Peeta doesn't seem to be faring any better. The dark circles under his eyes are huge, he's not eating enough, and since he's hardly sleeping at night he's been baking enough bread to feed the entire district.

One morning I convince him to come with me to the Hob, thinking that he can "sell" his extra bread to Greasy Sae and she can serve it with her soup. He clings to my hand tightly as we walk to the Hob, the horror stories about the infamous District 12 black market no doubt swirling through his head. He relaxes though when we reach Greasy Sae's stall and she greets us both with her signature toothless grin.

"You're even handsomer in person than on the tv," she says to Peeta, eyeing him up and down. "Thank you for bringing our Katniss back to us." 

"You're very welcome, ma'am," Peeta replies kindly, sliding his arm around my waist. Sae's eyes widen at being called ma'am. 

"You can call me Sae, young man," she says, winking at him. "Polite and handsome, that's a good one there Katniss." I laugh as Peeta blushes.

After delivering the bread and partaking in some of Greasy Sae's soup of the day, I take Peeta around and introduce him to the various vendors. He shakes hands with each of them, looking them in the eye and addressing them kindly. Many of them are so taken aback by his behavior that they can barely stammer back responses. I can understand why; I can't remember ever seeing too many Merchants in the Hob, and certainly not any that are as kind as Peeta.

We're just circling back around to leave when I catch sight of Gale. I guess today must be Sunday. The lack of sleep has made me lose track of the days. He's sitting at Sae's stall eating a bowl of soup and looking at Peeta and me with an unreadable expression. Jealousy? Anger? Betrayal? I can sense all three of those in his gaze as we pass him. I'm ready to just keep walking when Peeta stops right in front of him.

"Gale, it's nice to see you," he says. Gale blinks, definitely not expecting this from Peeta. I stare at Peeta, then glance at Gale, thinking the same thing. Gale swallows and stares for a couple more seconds before replying. 

"Out for a walk today?" he says, not keeping the sarcasm out of his voice. "Seeing how the other half lives?" I narrow my eyes and can feel my scowl forming.

Peeta however is nonplussed. "Katniss was introducing me to her friends here," he says. Gale grunts in response, his eyes shooting daggers at us. We stand there just staring at each other until Peeta tugs on my hand. "C'mon Katniss, let's go," he says. "Have a nice day," he says to Gale as we pass him.

"Don't mind all of the coal dust," Gale calls out behind us. "It tends to stick to your clothes for a while." 

That's it. I rip my hand from Peeta's and stomp my way back to where Gale is sitting, poking him hard in the chest. "Don't you dare talk to me about coal dust!" I say through clenched teeth. "Don't you dare talk to me like that, like I didn't grow up exactly like you did, like my father wasn't killed and I haven't ever known hardship! And don't you dare glare at Peeta like he's always had it so much better than us! You don't know a thing about him!" 

"He's a Merchant, Katniss!" Gale hisses right back at me. "Of course he always had it much better than us! He's not like us! And you were supposed to come back to me, not with him!" His eyes widen as those words come out of his mouth, like he hadn't meant to say them. Too late.

I take a deep breath, feeling Peeta gently take my hand again. "I'm sorry that things aren't the way that you hoped," I say to Gale, begging my words to reach him. I've never been good at saying the right something. "But that doesn't mean that we can't still be friends, that we can't all be friends." I tug Peeta closer to me. "Peeta's not going anywhere, so you may as well try to get used to him."

Gale stands up and looks between Peeta and me a couple times, trying I think to use his height to intimidate us. "I just don't think I can do that, Catnip," he says. "I'll see you around." Then he returns his bowl to Sae and walks out of the Hob.

Peeta and I watch him go, and I feel Peeta slide his arm around my waist. "He'll come around eventually, Katniss," he says. "If he's as good a friend as he thinks he is, he'll come around." 

"He doesn't see things that way," I say, sighing. "He sees it as you took me away from him. He can't see that I'm happy with you because he can't get past his own prejudices." 

Peeta just nods. "I'm sure Rye being my brother doesn't help, I know him and Gale never got along well in school," he says, leading me down the path towards the Square. 

"Speaking of Rye, we still need to get him and Madge over for dinner soon," I say, not so subtly changing the subject. 

Peeta laughs. "That sounds fun. Let's go see if he's at the bakery today," he says. 

I hesitate, not really in the mood for a confrontation with his mother right after our confrontation with Gale. Peeta senses my hesitation and squeezes me close. "We'll walk around to the back door," he says, reading my mind. "Usually Dad's the only one who answers the back door."

I smile gratefully and we walk around to the back of the bakery. When we get there Peeta and I both stop short when we see Madge and Rye, standing by the back door, deep in conversation. Peeta and I both watch as Madge puts her hand on Rye's arm, laughing at something he says. Rye finally sees us coming and waves, his hand moving to wrap around Madge's waist.

"Hey Katniss, hey Peet!" he calls over. "Nice day today, don't you think?" Madge is smiling and blushing.

"Hey," Peeta answers back. He looks between Madge and Rye quickly. "What's this?" he asks, his eyes twinkling. 

Rye grins sheepishly. "Well, I was going to wait for your dinner invitation," he says," smiling down at Madge and hugging her to him. "But then this lovely lady walked into the bakery when I was working a few days ago and asked for a cookie, and well, I was feeling brave that day for some reason, so I said I'd only sell her a cookie if she would agree to go out with me, and well, for some reason she agreed." 

"Oh, I'm so happy for you both!" I exclaim, surprising all four of us with my enthusiasm. "This is wonderful!" 

"I agree," Madge says, leaning in closer to Rye. "We'd still love to have dinner with the two of you guys sometime though," she adds. "We're not exactly broadcasting too loud that we're together yet..." and she glances up at the top floor of the bakery. 

I nod, understanding her completely. "We will set it up for next week, I promise," I say. "Now that all of our Victor events are done for a while, Peeta and I have more time for things like that." 

There's a pound on the door. "That's the signal I asked for; I gotta get back to work," Rye says, looking glum. "Dad said he would give me a 2 minute heads up before Mom was due back from an errand."

"We should go too then," Peeta says quickly, knowing that I don't want to be anywhere near here when his mother returns. "You be nice to her, Rye," he says to his brother. "She's a good one." Rye smiles and hugs Madge close again. "I know, little brother, I know!"

Peeta and I say goodbye and turn to leave, allowing Madge and Rye to say their own goodbyes in private. I can't seem to stop smiling; Madge and Rye are something else wonderful that came out of our going into the Hunger Games. 

As Peeta and I start walking back towards Victor's Village, I notice that he's limping a little. I often catch him rubbing the area on his leg where his flesh meets the prosthetic. "Is your leg bothering you?" I ask him. 

He winces. "Yeah, a little," he admits. "Since I don't sleep that much at night I'm on my feet a lot more than I probably should be." I instantly feel guilty, and Peeta notices right away. "Oh no Katniss, you know this isn't your fault," he says, trying to soothe me. "I just need to sit down for a bit when we get back, that's all."

"All right, but I'm going to rub it for you when we get back, and you're going to rest without the prosthetic on for a while," I say firmly. 

"Okay, okay," Peeta says, shaking his head and grinning.

We get back to my house and I push him onto the couch right away. Mother and Prim are out again, seeing more patients or shopping most likely. "Take off your prosthetic," I say, leaving no room for argument. Peeta hesitates. I kneel down and start untying his shoes, which I notice are double-knotted. "Please take it off," I repeat, my voice softer this time. I give him a sweet kiss on his cheek. "I'm going to go mix something to rub on your leg, I'll be right back." Peeta nods and starts to work on releasing his prosthetic.

I'm nowhere near as talented as my mother at mixing concoctions, but I at least know which herbs to use. I put together a crude mixture of lavender, rosemary, and chamomile suspended in some oil and shake it slightly before returning to Peeta. He's removed his prosthetic and is massaging the stump through his pant leg. I kneel down again and move his hands away. "Let me," I say, looking up at him. He swallows thickly and takes a deep breath. 

"Okay," he whispers, looking like he's trying hard to keep his composure.

I gently roll his pant leg up until his stump is revealed. This is the first time that I've seen it, and it's not as horrible as I imagined. I plant a kiss on the puckered flesh on the end before I pour some of my mixture into my hands and start massaging upwards. "The herbs and massage will help with pain and swelling," I say. "I should probably start doing this every day for you."

Peeta lets out a shaky breath. "That sounds good," he says, his voice shaking as well. "It feels much better already."

After I've massaged the entire mixture into his leg I head for the kitchen to wash my hands. When I return I see Peeta putting his prosthetic back on. "No," I say, stopping his hands. "Leave it off for a while so the herbs can soak in and the skin can breathe a bit." 

He smiles slightly, his shoulders drooping. "Okay," he says, "but only if you come and lay down with me for a while. I'm so tired, Katniss." He moves to lay down on the couch and holds his arms open for me. 

Not hesitating for one second I crawl into his arms and rest my head on his chest, listening to the comforting sound of his heartbeat. No one else's arms have ever made me feel this safe. I close my eyes and exhale loudly, feeling him kiss my forehead and whisper something before we both fall peacefully asleep.

It's a couple hours later when my mother gently wakes us, with dinner already cooking on the stove. Peeta and I stretch in unison, grateful for the nap but knowing it's still not enough sleep to make up for all of the sleepless nights we've had already.

After dinner, I get Mom to compound a salve for Peeta that I apply on his leg and let soak in while he's playing chess with Prim. The salve seems to help with the pain in his leg and his skin looks less red and inflamed, but what he really needs is about a straight week of sleep and sleep is the one thing that neither of us can seem to find alone. 

Once the dishes are done and the games put away, and Mom and Prim head upstairs for the night, I take Peeta's face into my hands and kiss him, trying to mimic our mouth movements from the other day. His hands run up and down my back as we kiss, our tongues dancing together. I had heard about this kind of kissing when I was in school, and I remember thinking that it sounded gross, but it's anything but gross to me now. When we pull apart to catch our breath he's breathing heavily, his face flushed and his eyes dark, the same things I can feel mirrored in my own face.

"Goodnight Katniss," he whispers. "I'll see you tomorrow." 

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. I walk him to my door and he kisses me gently on the lips one more time. 

"Goodnight," I whisper finally as the door closes behind him.


	15. The Nightmare

PPOV

My body still tingling from our goodnight kiss, I unlock my front door and enter my house. Almost instantly my mood drops as I survey the dark and empty rooms. Sighing, I throw my keys onto the table by the door and kick off my shoes. Not even bothering to turn on any lights downstairs, I make my way directly to my studio across from my bedroom. Pulling back the sheet over the canvas I'm currently working on, I lose myself in my painting for a few hours.

I don't realize how late it is until my head drops forward all of a sudden and I almost drop my paintbrush onto the floor. I check the clock; 12:30 am. Guess I should go to bed.

But first I have to wash my paintbrushes. Then I carefully replace the sheet over the canvas. 12:45 am. I decide to take a shower; maybe that will help me sleep. I stand under the shower spray for who knows how long until I start nodding off again. Better get out before I slip and fall and lose another limb.

I take as long as possible drying off and pulling on some clean pajama shorts and a t-shirt, then spend a few minutes massaging the end of my stump, trying to replicate Katniss's movements from earlier today. Finally, when I can come up with no more excuses, I sigh and climb into the bed. I glance at the clock again as I turn off the light. It's 1:15 am when I finally close my eyes.

I wake suddenly, shuddering and covered with sweat, my heart thumping in my chest and my fists clenched in the blankets on my bed. It takes a minute before I remember where I am. Sitting up on the bed, I grab the glass of water that I keep on my bedside table and gulp it down. I glance at the clock; 3:30 am. Typical. May as well get up and get some baking done, it's unlikely that I'll get any more sleep tonight. 

Pulling on my prosthetic, I glance out the window over to Katniss's house across the street. It's completely dark. Hopefully she's getting a better nights sleep than I am. 

I limp my way into the bathroom, deciding against another shower and just splash some water on my face instead. I look in the mirror for a second. My hair is sticking up all over the place, my face is paler than usual, and the circles under my eyes are so dark they're practically purple. I grunt at my reflection and leave the bathroom, pulling on a robe before heading downstairs to the kitchen.

Almost automatically I put on my apron and start pulling out ingredients for baking. Flour, sugar, oil, yeast, eggs. Our monthly food shipment from the Capitol hasn't arrived yet so I'm out of cheese, but I do have some chocolate chips here. I mix dough for bread and set it to rise and I'm in the middle of pouring batter for chocolate chip muffins when I hear someone pounding on the front door, nearly making me jump out of my skin. The sound is so unexpected that I drop the bowl of muffin batter onto the counter with a loud clank, making me jump again. Wiping my shaking hands on my apron, I walk towards the door, wondering who in the hell would be pounding on my door in the middle of the night and if I should've grabbed a knife from the kitchen just in case.

"Prim?" I say as I open the door to her clutching a robe around her body and looking frightened on my front porch. "What's wrong?" Prim looks absolutely terrified and I'm trying not to panic. 

"It's Katniss!" she cries out, grabbing my hand and trying to pull me out through the door. "Mom gave her sleep syrup last night before she went to bed, but she had another nightmare and now she won't wake up! She just keeps screaming your name over and over, and we can't do anything to help her!" Tears are streaming down her face and she pulls on my hand again. "Please come and help her, Mom and I have been trying for hours and we can't help her!"

"Okay Prim, okay," I say, trying to sound less panicked than I feel. "Just give me a second here...". I quickly pull my apron off, jam my feet into a pair of house shoes and grab my house keys off the table by the door. I pull the door closed behind me and Prim grabs my arm again, pulling me down the stairs and across the street.

We're still a few steps away when I hear Katniss let loose with a blood-curdling scream. My blood seems to freeze in my veins and I stumble on my prosthetic foot. 

Prim throws the door open and we run directly up the stairs and into Katniss's bedroom. The sight I'm greeted with is absolutely heartbreaking. Katniss is thrashing around on her bed, sobbing and screaming my name over and over again. Her mom is trying to hold her arms down and is talking to her, but Katniss doesn't seem to hear a word. 

I rush immediately over to the bed and Mrs. Everdeen lets go of Katniss as I quickly take her place. I gather her up as best as I can and pull her to me. Her body is stiff and her eyes stay squeezed shut. 

"Katniss!" I say loudly, trying to make sure she can hear me over her own screaming. "Shhh, Katniss, it's okay," I soothe, a little quieter now as her screaming dies down a little. I pull her onto my lap and rock her gently. "I'm here, it's okay. It's not real, it's just a nightmare. I've got you, I've got you." 

Her eyes fly open suddenly, looking panicked before she's able to realize who's holding her. I can tell when she's able to focus on my face because she starts to finally release the iron grip on her body. As she slowly relaxes she starts to tremble violently, clinging tightly to me like she's afraid I'm going to drift away if she lets go. 

"It's all right Katniss," I whisper, my hands making circles on her back.

"I couldn't reach you," she chokes out, burying her face into my chest. "Cato had you again and I couldn't reach you. I saw him snap your neck and I couldn't reach you! They were trying to take you away and I wouldn't let them!" She starts sobbing in earnest. "I'm so sorry Peeta!" she says through her sobs, her tears soaking the front of my shirt. 

I bring my hands up to cup her face. "Katniss, look at me!" I say, giving her a little shake to get her attention. Her tear-filled eyes finally find mine. "See? I'm right here!" A flash of recognition finally crosses her face and she flings her arms up around my neck, still sobbing. 

We sit there for several minutes until Katniss is able to calm down enough to stop crying. Mrs. Everdeen and Prim have been watching the whole thing from the doorway with looks of shock on their faces. Even after watching the Games on TV and seeing what we went through in that arena, and dealing with Katniss's nightmares every night since we've been home, they still look shocked. They don't understand just how horrible it was in that arena. No one who wasn't there could possibly understand what it was like and why the nightmares are so bad.

Katniss finally pulls away from me a little, putting her hand on my cheek. "You're really here?" she says, looking up at me and sounding like she's 5 years old. 

"Yes love, I'm really here," I reply, kissing her forehead. 

"Will you stay with me?" she asks, still with the childlike voice. "I can't sleep without you," she adds, burying her face back into my chest.

I quickly glance over at Mrs. Everdeen, who hesitates for only a second before she nods her head with a small smile. I nod once in thanks and kick off my slippers before sliding into the bed next to Katniss. She immediately lays down and puts her head down on my chest, her hand over my heart. "I'm here, I'm here, I'm here," I keep repeating as Katniss's breathing finally slows down and becomes even again, indicating that she's finally fallen asleep. I give her one final kiss on her forehead before I close my eyes and let sleep peacefully find me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving to all of you who celebrate! :)


	16. Changes and Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More fluff! ;)

KPOV

The first thing that I notice when I wake up is that I'm not alone in my bed. Peeta is here, still asleep, but his arms are holding me so tightly against him that I can hardly move at all. I'm lying with my head on his chest, my fingers up by his face and my leg flung over both of his.

The events of last night start flashing into my head. The horrible nightmare that I couldn't wake from. Seeing Peeta die and being helpless to stop it. Watching the hovercraft arrive to remove his body from the arena and throwing myself over him, not wanting him taken from me.

Then it seemed like my mother was calling for me, calling my name, but I couldn't see her so it seemed like another Gamemaker trick, trying to get me away from Peeta's body. I screamed at her to leave me alone, that I wasn't leaving him, that it was my fault that he was dead and I deserved to die too.

Then, all of a sudden, I could feel strong arms around me, pulling me away. I could hear my name being called again, but it wasn't my mother this time. Those arms wrapped around me and wouldn't let go. I knew I still had to stay with Peeta, that I needed to protect him, but those arms were so warm, so familiar and soothing, and I felt like I could trust those arms to keep me safe. I heard my name again, this time a little louder, and the voice sounded kind and was soothing to me. I felt like it was okay to trust it, so I did. The voice told me to open my eyes, so I did. And then I saw him.

He wasn't dead, and we weren't back in the arena. We were here, in my bedroom. He was safe, he was holding me and telling me that I was safe, that he was here and wasn't going to leave me. And I clung to him like he was the only thing that could keep me alive, because without him I wouldn't be.

I tilt my head to kiss Peeta, managing only to reach the underside of his jaw since he's holding me so tight. I don't want to wake him so I don't try to move anymore than that. He needs the sleep just as much as I do. I fall asleep again to the comforting sound of his heart beating under my ear and his arms holding the nightmares away.

When I wake up the second time I'm alone in the bed. I panic momentarily before I hear the voices coming from downstairs and smell the bread baking. Peeta is here, downstairs, making breakfast for me and my family.

I dress and braid my hair quickly and head downstairs. Peeta obviously has been back to his house to change since he's no longer wearing his pajamas, and he looks happier and more well-rested than I've seen him in a long time. He plates out two muffins and sets them on the table for me before greeting me with a hug and a kiss on my cheek.

"Good morning, beautiful," he says, making me blush and Prim snort. She's devouring her own plate of muffins and looks up at us.

"Katniss!" she says excitedly, her mouth full. "There's chocolate in these muffins!"

My eyes widen as I take a bite of my own muffin. It is absolutely decadent. I can count on one of my hands how many times I've eaten chocolate. I make an embarrassing sound of pleasure as I swallow and quickly take another bite.

"It's a good thing Peeta came over here last night," Prim says after she swallows, looking more serious. "Mom and I didn't know what to do with you; you've never been that bad before."

I nod, my throat still scratchy from all of my screaming last night. I reach across the table for Peeta's hand. "I can't sleep without him anymore," I manage to croak out. "I can't sleep alone, the nightmares are just too bad. And he can't sleep without me either," I say quickly, looking over at Peeta. "It's not just me. We both need each other."

"What should we do about this then, Katniss?" my mother asks, setting down cups of tea in front of us. There's no judgement in her voice. She has to be at the end of her rope trying to help me, and once Prim starts school again I can't expect her to help me sleep at night.

"I think I should start sleeping at Peeta's house," I say quietly, my eyes focused on the table. Peeta's head snaps up, his eyes wide, flitting back and forth between my mother and me. I probably should have talked about this with him first, but I'm too impatient and want it settled now.

"Mmmhmm," Mom says. "And what do you think about that?" she asks, turning to face Peeta. "What exactly are your intentions towards my daughter?"

Peeta doesn't hesitate for a second. "I want to marry her," he says, his voice proud. That causes my head to snap up and my eyes to widen. Peeta glances at me and then looks back to my mom. "If, that is, if she'll have me."

To my relief my mother smiles at him. "You're so much like your father, Peeta," she says. "He was always the perfect gentleman and so kind and loving." She reaches across and pats Peeta's hand. "I trust you with my daughter, and I know you wouldn't do anything to hurt her, or push her too quickly." Peeta smiles that sweet smile of his, with the hint of shyness. "I would just ask, that before you were to...consummate your relationship, that you would have a proper toasting first, even if it's just a private one."

My face is burning listening to this talk about marriage and consummation all the things that go along with that. And, I cannot believe that my mother is so willing to let me just start sleeping over at Peeta's house. I had been prepared to argue with her for it, and here she was encouraging us. Maybe she understands me better than I thought. Or maybe she just knows that no one can understand me now except Peeta. My mind goes quickly back to my recent conversation with Hazelle; she said that she could tell that my actions in the arena weren't an act because of how I looked at Peeta. I wonder if it was that obvious to everyone else.

"Yes ma'am," Peeta is saying when I tune back into their conversation. I must have missed something.

"What?" I ask, embarrassed that they have been basically talking about me right in front of me.

Mom looks at me quizzically. "I was saying, that you and Peeta should pack up some of your clothes to keep at his house, so you don't have to always come back and forth." I nod and take a big gulp of my tea.

"And," she continues, "I also said that I didn't want you two to feel responsible for keeping Prim and I company every night. I'm sure you have other friends that you'd like to spend time with on occasion."

I feel tears spring to my eyes. "I still feel responsible for you both," I say quietly. Mom reaches over to take my hand.

"You don't have to, Katniss," she says. "I'm better now, Prim and I have plenty of work to keep us busy, we don't have to struggle anymore and you..." she pauses and reaches for Peeta's hand. "You have each other to look after now, and that should your first priority. You both have been through horrors that no one else can imagine, and the fact that you have each other is such a blessing. You don't know this, but your father was always fond of the Mellark boys, especially you, Peeta."

Peeta raises his eyebrows in surprise. "Really?" he asks.

"Yes! My husband was always talking about how polite you boys were, and he could tell you had eyes for his Katniss back when you were little," she says, smiling at Peeta. "He and I used to chuckle about it." Peeta blushes and drops his gaze to the table.

"You both need to concentrate only on taking care of each other, at least for a while," Mom continues. "With the traumas that you've endured and your nightmares and such, you need each other. Prim and I will be fine."

I can't hold back the tears anymore, and I get up from my chair and hug my mother like I haven't hugged her in a long time. She really has come a long way; she finally seems somewhat healthy again. Having enough food to eat can go a long way for easing stress and anxiety, but I know the fact that my father approved of Peeta is one of the main reasons why she's being so accommodating to us.

It takes us most of the morning to pack up and move my things over to Peeta's house after breakfast is done. I leave most of my fancy Capitol wardrobe behind since I don't ever anticipate having to actually wear any of it. But most of the more causal clothes that Cinna made for me make the move over, along with my father's hunting jacket and boots.

After the moving is done, Peeta and I decide to pack a blanket and a picnic lunch and head out to the Meadow for the afternoon. We eat sandwiches and fruit and leftover cake and talk about ourselves. I learn that his favorite color is orange, like the color of the sunset. He tells me that he always double-knots his shoes because he tripped over his laces once when he was seven and dropped a tray of cookies, earning him a few bruises from his mother. I learn that he always sleeps with his bedroom window open, even in winter, because his bedroom at the bakery was right above the ovens and always stifling hot. I learn that he always wanted to learn how to paint, but his mother thought it was a useless skill and so never encouraged it or let him purchase supplies.

I tell him some things about myself too. I tell him my favorite color is green, like the forest. I tell him about the first bow my father made for me, and how I got to choose Prim's name when she was born from a list of choices my parents had. I tell him about how I tried to teach Prim how to hunt once and how she cried when I shot a rabbit. I tell him about how I don't know what we would have done that day in the rain if he hadn't thrown me that bread.

Peeta pulls out his sketchbook after a while and starts drawing while I lay back on the blanket and stare at the sky. It's hard for me to believe that it's only been a few weeks since we've been home. I can still remember the despair I felt on the day of the Reaping. First hearing Prim's name called and volunteering for her, then my surprise at my own reaction to hearing Peeta's name called. I guess I hadn't realized myself how connected to him I already felt.

I don't realize I've fallen asleep until I feel Peeta's hand gently caressing my cheek. The look he's giving me when I open my eyes takes my breath away. He's stretched out on his stomach next to me and staring at me with a look of such intensity, his eyes shining and his hair flashing gold from the sunlight. I bring my hand up to cover his, afraid to move more and break his gaze.

"I love watching you sleep," he says, almost a whisper, like he's afraid of how I'm going to react. "You're so beautiful."

I'm not good with words, and my brain seems stuck right now, so I just reach my hand up behind his head and pull him closer to me. "Peeta," I whisper, "will you kiss me?"

He smiles, that adorably sweet smile of his. "You don't have to ask me," he says, before lowering his lips to mine. Warmth floods my body the instant our lips connect, and I wrap my arms around his neck to pull him closer to me. He moves his upper body so that it's covering mine and deepens our kiss. I can feel one of his hands running up and down my side, moving close to my breast but not quite reaching it. When we break for air he starts trailing kisses to my jaw and down my neck, pressing his body firmly against mine. I bury my fingers in his hair and moan as he finds a certain spot on my neck that makes my whole body shudder.

"Peeta," I breathe out, "that feels so good."

"Katniss," I hear in my ear, "you have no idea the effect you have on me." He kisses my neck again and works his way back up to my mouth, pulling me up to a sitting position and wrapping his arms around me.

We kiss, sitting there on our blanket in the Meadow. We kiss for a long time, and when our lips are swollen and dry and we're panting with our foreheads pressed together, I tell him something that I've known for a while now, but was too afraid to admit out loud. I take his face between my hands and look deep into his beautiful blue eyes.

"I love you, Peeta."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next few chapters the events of Catching Fire will be starting. Peeta and Katniss will face it together, but it's still the Hunger Games so not exactly fluffy, so enjoy the fluff while it lasts! ;)


	17. The First Night

PPOV

I just stare at her, thinking that there's no way I heard her correctly. "What did you say?"

She gives me a soft kiss on the lips, her small hands still cupping my face gently. When she pulls back her eyes are shining. "I said, I love you Peeta. I love you, and I never thought I was capable of loving anyone except Prim."

My heart soars into my throat as I hug her as tightly as I can without breaking her in half. "Oh Katniss," I rasp, my voice thick with emotion. "You have no idea how many times I've dreamed of you saying that to me. I love you too, so very much!" I kiss her collarbone and make my way back up to her mouth. I kiss her fiercely, trying to convey every ounce of love that I have for her into one kiss.

Just then her stomach growls, causing us to break apart laughing. "I guess we should get you home and feed you," I say, standing up and bending down to help her up. We pack up our picnic supplies and hold hands as we head back to my house, our house now actually. That thought makes me smile and squeeze her hand.

"After dinner, I'd like to watch you paint for a while, if that's okay," Katniss says as we enter the house. I hesitate. It's not that I don't want her to watch me, I just think she won't like what she sees. But I don't want us to hide anything from each other, not ever, so I agree reluctantly.

"Okay," I say, "but I want you to know that you may not like all of them."

She nods, her face serious. "I want you to rest on the couch with your prosthetic off while I get dinner ready," she says as we kick our shoes off. She takes the picnic basket from me and pushes me down onto the couch. "And then before bed I'm going to massage your leg again."

I gulp and nod. She still has no idea the effect she has on me. It was all I could do to keep my composure the other day when she was massaging my leg on her couch, it's going to be pretty much impossible for her not to notice if we're lying in bed while she's doing it. I'm not embarrassed really, I know it's a completely normal reaction for a guy when he's close to a pretty girl that he likes, or loves in my case. She's just so pure, and I don't want her to be afraid or think I'm some kind of creep because I can get a hard on just thinking about her.

Katniss sets some leftover stew on the stove to reheat and gets some of yesterday's bread out while I detach my prosthetic and sigh. As high-tech as the prosthetic is, it's still not my real leg and it always feels good to take it off. Katniss insists I keep it off while we eat too, and doesn't let me help with the cleanup afterwards over my protests.

"If I'm going to be pretty much living here with you now, I'm going to take care of you," she insists, kissing me sweetly but with a rather impish glint in her grey eyes. "And you're going to like it."

"Yes dear," I joke, laughing when she scowls at me.

"Is that what your dad says to your mom?" she asks.

Instantly my face turns serious. "Actually, yeah," I say, "so I won't ever say that again."

She nods, tilting her head in thought for a moment. "I remember you calling me 'love' when you were trying to wake me up from that nightmare at my house," she says, wincing a little at the memory. "I like that."

Grinning widely, I pull her down onto the couch next to me. "Okay then, love," I say, emphasizing the word and kissing her on her cheek. "Can I put my leg back on now and take you upstairs to my painting studio?"

Katniss smiles softly, her eyes serious. "What is it?" I ask, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles. She puts both of her hands around mine and stares at them for a minute, finally bringing my hand up to her lips and kissing it. Her eyes are filled with tears.

"Hey," I say gently. "What's wrong?"

She doesn't answer at first, just kisses my hand a few more times. Finally she takes a deep breath and looks up at me. "I can't believe I almost let you walk away from me on the train home that day," she says, a single tear escaping down her cheek. "I can't believe I almost made the biggest mistake of my life. I don't know what I would do without you. I'd be miserable and no one would be taking care of you and..."

I take her face into my hands. "Hey," I say, kissing her forehead. "But you didn't. You didn't, and you're here and we're going to take care of each other and love each other and whatever happens we will face together, as a team, because that's what you and I do. We protect each other." As I brush the tear from her cheek she reaches up and grabs my hand, kissing it again before leaning forward to kiss my lips.

"Yes," she says. "You and I protect each other." Then she kisses my lips again and swipes at her eyes. "Let's go look at your paintings now."

After showing her how to reattach my prosthetic, we head up the stairs to my studio, which I converted from one of the extra bedrooms. I moved the bed and dresser against one of the walls and moved the couch against another wall, leaving me with a nice big space in the middle to paint. I chose this room because it had no overhead light in it, only smaller lamps, so I could turn them on and off as needed to prevent any shadows from falling across my canvas while I was painting.

Even though I had warned her, Katniss still gasps and brings her hand up to her mouth when she sees the paintings. I've basically painted the Games. Water dripping through the cracks in our cave. The dry pond bed. My hands digging for roots. The golden horn of the Cornucopia. Katniss high up in a tree. Katniss cleaning my filthy shirt at the river. Katniss looking at me when I was high with fever. I look over at her tentatively.

"What do you think?" I ask softly.

"They are incredible. I hate them," she whispers, turning to me. "It's like we're back in the arena."

"This is what I would do when I couldn't sleep," I say, wrapping my arms around her from behind and resting my chin on her head. "I think it helped me to paint it out."

Katniss nods. "Do you mind if I watch you paint for a while?"

I shake my head.  "I'm going to paint you asleep at the Meadow from this afternoon," I say, kissing her cheek. "Now that you'll be here at night with me I can paint more happy moments instead of scary ones."

Katniss smiles and nods, kissing me again before moving over to the couch and stretching out to watch me. I get a blank canvas set up in front of me and stare at it for a few minutes. I'm not used to painting in front of an audience.

Before long though I'm able to lose myself in my work. After a couple hours spent sketching the picture out and getting some basic shading completed, I decide that that's enough for the night. I turn around to look at Katniss, who's surprisingly still awake and smiling at me.

"I could watch you do that for hours," she says, a dreamy quality in her voice. "You have such a look of concentration on your face, and your hands move across the canvas like you've been doing all your life."

I move over to the couch and crouch down to kiss her. "Wow! With compliments like that, you can watch me anytime you like," I say teasingly. I lean down to kiss her again. "But now, I think we should get ready to go to sleep. Why don't you get ready for bed while I clean up in here?"

Katniss nods and stretches a little before moving off the couch. "I'm going to massage your leg before we go to sleep," she reminds me.

"Yes, love," I reply, trying to hide the blush forming on my neck. She smiles again and leaves for my bedroom, while I head to the bathroom attached to the studio to wash my paintbrushes.

By the time I make it across to my bedroom, Katniss has already showered and is sitting on my bed, drying her hair with a towel. My heart leaps as I realize that she's wearing one of my t-shirts. "I hope it's okay that I put this on," she says, pulling the shirt away from her body a little. Her eyes flit downward and I see her cheeks start to redden. "It smells like you," she says sheepishly.

I sit down next to her and pull her into a hug. "Are you kidding?" I ask. "I love it! Although I don't think anything of yours will fit me, so I can't return the favor," I say with a wink. Katniss giggles and I kiss her cheek. "I'm going to shower quick and I'll be right back."

I take as cold of a shower as I can stand before pulling my pajamas on and joining Katniss back in the bedroom. She's waiting there with the jar of salve that her mother made for my leg. I obediently detach my prosthetic and climb onto the bed, taking in a shaky breath and closing my eyes as Katniss rolls up my pant leg to apply the soothing cream, after kissing the end of my leg first.

Her hands feel so good moving over my sore skin and muscles that it's all I can do to keep quiet. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to think about the time I had to clean Haymitch up on the train after our reaping, anything to try and keep my mind off the fact that the girl I love is running her hands over my thigh. Hopefully soon I won't have to hide how much she arouses me, but since it's our first night sleeping together in my bed I don't want to scare her.

"Okay, I'm done," she says softly after a few more minutes, kissing my leg one more time and moving to the bathroom to wash her hands. I open my eyes and exhale, banishing all thoughts of Haymitch and his naked body covered in vomit and concentrate finally on the tingling coursing through my body. She still has no idea what she does to me.

Katniss climbs into the bed and lays down right next to me. I reach my arm around her and pull her flush against me, kissing the back of her head. "Goodnight Katniss," I whisper.

Katniss brings my hand up to her mouth and kisses my fingers. "Peeta?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you mean what you said to my mom? About wanting to marry me?" she asks, a note of surprise in her voice.

"Yes," I answer firmly. "I've known that I wanted to marry you since I was old enough to know what marriage was. I even remember telling my brothers that we would have bunk beds once we were married, and that you could sleep on the top since it's more fun." I chuckle a little at the memory. I think I was about ten when I said that.

"Mmmm. And you would want to do...what married people do, with me?" she asks, very tentatively.

I roll her over to face me. "Yes I would want to do that, with you," I say, kissing her nose. "But only when you're ready, and we're going to wait until you are ready, however long it takes." I kiss her nose again. "But I'd marry you tomorrow if you wanted to," I add teasingly.

Katniss furrows her brow, staring off over my shoulder. "I never wanted to get married," she says. "I even said that to Gale, the morning of the reaping." My eyebrows shoot up. "I told him I never wanted kids either."

I swallow thickly. This wasn't a conversation I expected we would have tonight. "And now?" I ask, trying to hide my nervousness.

"Now it's different. I'm different." She kisses my nose and then my lips gently. "You came along and changed everything." She kisses my lips again and smiles at me.

"Are you saying you'd marry me then?" I ask, trying to keep the teasing note in my voice.

"If you asked me, I'd say yes," she says, her eyes serious.

I blink and gulp. She's completely serious. I swallow again, my mouth suddenly very dry.

"Katniss?"

"Hmm?"

"Will you marry me?"

"Yes," she says, without any hesitation. "Let's do it tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" I ask incredulously.

"You said you would marry me tomorrow if I wanted to." Now it's her turn to sound teasing.

I study her face for a moment. She's smiling, her eyes are shining and looking right at me, like I'm important to her. Like she loves me.

"Okay then," I say, kissing her lips quickly. "Let's have a toasting tomorrow."

She pulls my head towards hers and kisses me gently on my cheekbones before moving to my mouth. "That sounds great," she says, before kissing my nose one more time and rolling so her back is against my chest again.

I pull her as close as possible and lean down to whisper in her ear. "I love you, Katniss. You've made me the happiest man in Panem tonight."

She doesn't answer, she just pulls my hand up to her mouth to kiss it again, then places it very slowly and deliberately right over her breast. I gasp and my hips thrust forward automatically. Katniss grinds into me one time and sighs, so softly I almost don't hear it. "I love you too, Peeta," she whispers. "Goodnight."


	18. The Wedding

KPOV

I'm alone in the bed when I wake up, but Peeta's side is still warm so I know he hasn't been awake for long. I can hear him clanging around in the kitchen downstairs, probably working on our bread and a cake for our toasting today.

Today. I'm getting married today. Me. Katniss Everdeen, who swore I would never get married, never have children, never fall in love, because all love did was lead to devastating heartache and children who were reaped.

I suppose that could have changed eventually; if I had survived all of my reapings it would have made sense to marry Gale, since he would have had a job and would have wanted to get out of his mom's house. We do make a good hunting team, but that's pretty much it. Gale and I would often bicker more than we would actually talk, and I've never had those electric feelings or had my heart skip a beat when I looked at Gale or when I touched him on occasion. Not like I do with Peeta.

How different things are now; how different I am now.

I dress quickly in my hunting clothes, still braiding my hair as I walk down the stairs and into the kitchen. Peeta is bent over the counter, carefully measuring out ingredients for our cake. There's a loaf of bread rising under a white cloth off to the side and a tray of rolls on top of the stove. He hasn't heard me come down yet so I take the opportunity to watch him for a moment.

That's another thing that's different. I could never imagine just sitting and watching someone else work, I always felt like I needed to help, or do something productive with the time. With Peeta I am perfectly happy watching him draw or paint for hours on end. The way he can move his large hands with such precision is fascinating to me, and I love the look of intense concentration that covers his face when he's doing something he loves.

After a couple of minutes he seems to sense me behind him and whips his head around, a smile breaking over his handsome face. Peeta puts the mixing bowl down and comes around to wrap me in his arms. "Good morning," he says, kissing me lightly. "Did you sleep well?"

I nod. "The best sleep I've had since the train ride home," I answer, leaning up for another kiss. We just stare at each other for a moment, grinning like fools.

"Are you making a cake?" I ask, looking around him into the kitchen, which is covered in mixing bowls, food coloring, piping bags, and flour.

"Of course I am!" he says excitedly. "You can't have a toasting without a cake!"

My smile gets even bigger and I wrap my arms around his neck that smells like flour and sugar and vanilla. "I sure got lucky, falling in love with a baker," I tell him, kissing his neck.

Peeta picks me up and twirls me around. "No," he says. "I got lucky when you fell in love with a baker."

After polishing off the leftover chocolate chip muffins, I grab my father's hunting jacket and head for the woods. Thankfully the fence is off and I'm able to slip underneath without issue. It is a beautiful day today; not too humid, bright and sunny with a nice breeze. Perfect for my wedding day.

I quickly shoot two medium-sized turkeys, thinking that they should be enough to feed everyone who will be there tonight. I decide to bring them to my house right away, hoping that Mom and Prim can start on preparing them for our dinner. I find them both in the kitchen, just finishing their own breakfast. They both look surprised to see me.

"Katniss!" Prim jumps up to give me a hug. I hug her back tightly before moving towards our mother. "Good morning," I say, giving her a hug as well.

Mom pulls back to look at me. "Is everything all right Katniss?" she asks, a look of concern on her face. I can't help the smile that stretches over mine.

"Actually, yes, everything is wonderful," I say. "Peeta and I have some news." I take a deep breath. "We've decided to get married...tonight."

Prim squeals and tackles me, jumping up and down. "Oh that's so wonderful Katniss!" she says. "I'm so happy for you!"

"Tonight Katniss?" my mom says, a little less enthusiastic than Prim. "You've only spent one night at his house and you've already talked about marriage?"

"He said he's always wanted to marry me, and you asked him before we... did anything... that we have a toasting first, so, we've decided to have a proper toasting." I see my mom open her mouth to speak and I raise my hand to cut her off.

"I know you think we're too young, and that we're probably rushing things, but we still don't want to wait. We figured if we're going to be essentially living together in his house that we should be officially married. I thought Daddy would have wanted it that way for me."

My mom's eyes fill with tears. "Yes, that's how he would've wanted it," she says, and hugs me. I feel her kiss my cheek and her own is wet with tears. "You and Peeta have my blessing. What can we do to help you?"

"Well," I say, holding up my game bag. "I just shot these, and I was hoping you and Prim could prepare them so we can all have dinner together tonight. We wanted to invite Peeta's father and brothers also, if that's okay."

"Of course it is, Katniss," Mom says, still dabbing at her eyes. "Is there anything else we can do?"

"No, Peeta is taking care of the bread for our toasting and a cake," I say. Prim squeals again at the mention of cake. "I'm going to shower real quick and head over to the bakery to talk to Peeta's father, and then see if I can talk to Madge. I'd like Mayor Undersee to come and officiate at our house if he's able so we don't have to walk to the Justice Building."

Mom and Prim both nod, and Mom moves into the kitchen to start working on the turkeys. Prim volunteers to choose a dress for me to wear for the wedding, and I head up to my old bedroom to shower and change.

Once I'm dressed I leave to walk over to Haymitch's house, hoping to catch him awake. As usual I'm nearly bowled over by the stench as I enter his house. "Maybe I should get him to hire a housekeeper," I say quietly to myself as I search for him in the mess. I know just the perfect person too. Hazelle.

I finally find him slumped over in a chair, a book open on his lap and a bottle of white liquor in his hand. He's snoring, but not too deeply asleep as he wakes up as soon as I take the bottle from his hand. "Don't you ever knock?" he grumbles, scrubbing at his eyes with his hand.

"Peeta and I wanted to invite you over for dinner tonight," I say, matching his grumpy tone. "Wear something clean, it's a special occasion."

"What special occasion?" he grumbles, scratching at his cheeks now. I wonder how long it's been since he's had a bath.

"Peeta and I are getting married tonight," I say. "And we want you to be there."

"You're doing what?" he asks, his eyes wide and sounding more sober than I've heard him in a long time. "Already? Don't you think you're rushing things a bit?"

"We have our reasons," I say firmly, not really wanting to get into the details with him.

"You're not pregnant, are you?" he asks suddenly. My eyes narrow and my teeth clench, and he puts his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay, Sweetheart. I'm just trying to get a rise out of ya. But I thought I told you that it's the unexpected things that attract the Capitol's attention."

"We're not going to tell the Capitol," I answer. "Mayor Undersee is going to file the papers, but he's not going to send them to the Capitol until we tell him it's okay."

Haymitch takes a deep breath. "Fine," he says, sounding defeated. "What time should I be there?"

"Six o'clock at Peeta's house," I say. "And please take a bath first and put on something that doesn't smell like liquor and vomit."

"Fine, fine Sweetheart. Now get out of here and let me sleep."

My next stop after Haymitch's house is the bakery. My heart is in my throat as I try and figure out what I'm going to say to Peeta's father, and at the same time hoping that Mrs. Mellark is out running more of her errands. I smirk as I think of how she will react when she realizes that I will be a Mrs. Mellark too.

I reach the bakery's back door and knock loudly. Peeta's father opens the door, a look of surprise on his face when he sees that I'm alone.

"Katniss! What a pleasant surprise!" he says, hugging me with one arm as his other arm is covered in flour. "What can I do for you?"

"Actually, this might take a few minutes," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "Do you mind if I come in?"

"Not at all," he says, holding the door open for me. "The missus is out, so you don't have to worry about her."

"Oh good," I say. "Is Rye here? I'd like him to hear this also, if he's around."

Mr. Mellark looks confused, but gets up and fetches Rye from the front of the store. "Hey Katniss!" Rye says as he sees me. "What's up?"

I take a deep breath. "I'm not sure what Peeta has told the two of you about us, about how the arena affected us and the constant nightmares that we have. Well, we figured out pretty quickly that the only way we could get any sleep was if we were together. It actually reached a breaking point the other night where my sister had to go get Peeta in the middle of the night because my nightmare was so bad." Both Rye and Mr. Mellark wince.

"So yesterday we decided that it would be best for Peeta and I to spend the nights together, and I moved most of my things into his house. And well, neither of us really feel right about living together without being married; my father would have wanted us to be married first, so we decided to get married. Tonight. And we want you both to be there, and Bannock and his fiancée too if they're available."

Two pairs of almost identical blond eyebrows shoot up. Mr. Mellark is able to recover first.

"Well, I can't say that I'm too surprised, and I surely wouldn't want to disappoint your father, Katniss," he says kindly and pats my shoulder. "I'm just sorry that you both have to suffer so much."

"We take care of each other," I say. "And I...I love him." I look down at the table covered in flour. "And he loves me, and right now he's at home baking our wedding cake, and I don't know what I would do without him." I feel tears building in my eyes and swipe at them quickly. The old Katniss would be mortified at this show of emotion, but now it just seems natural to me.

I look back up from the table to face them. "Thank you for agreeing to come, and for not judging us," I say.

Mr. Mellark stands up to give me a hug. "I wouldn't ever judge you, sweet girl. With everything that you and Peeta have been through, you both deserve every single day of happiness with each other. Peeta is a lucky man to have someone like you to take care of him; goodness knows he's never had it before..." and he looks down sadly.

Rye stands and gives me a hug as well. "I guess this means that I get to call you my sister now?" he jokes. I can't help but laugh a little; Rye really is very sweet in his own way. I can see why Madge would develop a crush on him.

"I'm heading over to Madge's house right now," I tell him. "I'm planning on inviting her and her father as well."

Rye beams at me. "Oh that's great! We actually hadn't made plans for tonight yet, so I think this will work," he says, winking at me. "And I'll head over to the General Store and tell Bannock about it once I'm off this afternoon so you don't have to worry about catching him. I think his father-in-law to be keeps him pretty busy."

I give both men another quick hug. "Thank you both again. Peeta wants to start around six tonight with the wedding and then dinner. We're going to have a private toasting after the dinner."

"We'll see you then!" they both say as I leave the bakery and head for the Mayor's mansion.

Madge thankfully is home when I stop by and we spend about an hour talking, first about our wedding tonight, then about her and Rye. "He's just so sweet Katniss!" she squeals. "I never thought he could be such a gentleman with the reputation he had."

"Yeah well, I think he and Peeta tried to cope however they could when they were younger, and that must have been Rye's way of coping, like you suspected." I'm still glad that Peeta had other ways of coping, which seemed to entail keeping tabs on me as much as possible from what he's told me. As far as I know he's never been with anyone else, just like me, and I like it that way. We will be each other's one and only when that time comes.

Madge and I talk for a few more minutes, and she reassures me that her father will be able to come tonight to officiate our wedding and be discreet about it. While Peeta and I are wanting a legal marriage, we aren't wanting to broadcast it yet to the entire district by walking to the Justice Building. With both of us being Victors we value our privacy when we're able to have some.

Peeta's house smells amazing when I return, a mixture of bread and cake coupled with perfectly seasoned roasting birds and vegetables. Instantly my mouth starts watering, and after a quick kiss in greeting, Peeta pushes a plate with a sandwich and some raspberries towards me. Always making sure I'm not going hungry.

"Thank you," I breathe out, popping a raspberry into my mouth and sitting down at the table. "Are you almost done with everything?" I ask him before taking a bite of the sandwich.

"Almost," he says, winking at me. "I'm not going to tell you about the cake, I want it to be a surprise, so you can't see it until it's time to eat it."

"I'm sure once I see it I won't want to eat it," I say, popping another berry into my mouth. "It's going to be such a work of art I won't want to destroy it!"

Peeta puts his hands on my shoulders and kisses the top of my head. "I can copy it into a painting if you like."

I nod my head. "I'd like that. We can hang it up in our bedroom then."

Peeta smiles and kisses my head again. "That's an excellent idea."

Once I'm done eating I head back over to my old house for a bit, looking for something, which I find hidden in a kitchen cupboard along with some of my mother's herbs. It's our family Plant Book, made of parchment and leather. Someone on my mother's side of the family started it ages ago. It's composed of page after page of ink drawings of plants with descriptions of their medical uses. My father added a section of edible plants that was my guidebook to keeping us alive after his death. For a long time I've wanted to record my own knowledge in it; things I've learned from experience or from Gale, and then the information I picked up when I was training for the Games. I haven't yet though because I'm no artist, and it's absolutely crucial that the pictures are drawn in exact detail. This is where Peeta comes in. I'm planning on asking him to help me by drawing the pictures of the plants that I want to add, with me writing out the descriptions. It will give me a chance to update the book and watch Peeta draw at the same time.

Memories of my father come flooding back as I carefully turn page after page of the old book. I can almost feel his hand on my shoulder, almost hear his voice describing them to me. "If you can find yourself, Katniss, you'll never starve," he said after teaching me all about katniss roots, the plant after which I am named. I feel a tear run down my cheek as I remember him showing me how to dig my toes into the soft mud next to the lake and watching the katniss tubers bob to the surface. He would be proud of me now, I think. He would be happy that I used what he'd taught me to keep Peeta and me alive in the arena.

I've lost track of time, and I jump when I feel my mother's hand on my shoulder. "You should head back over and get ready soon, Katniss, it's almost time."

I nod, carefully closing the book and tucking it under my arm. "I'm going to take this and add to it with Peeta's help, if that's okay."

Mom smiles and nods. "Yes, I'd like that. And speaking of that, we need to talk a little before tonight."

I can feel my face flushing. "Mom, Peeta knows I'm not ready for that yet..." I start, looking down at the floor.

"That may be," Mom says. "But you will be eventually, and I know you're not ready for children yet." She rummages around in the kitchen for a minute and comes back with a small bag of tea leaves. "I want you to drink one cup of tea using this mixture every day until you decide you're ready for a baby."

I take the bag and nod. "It works well, Katniss," she says. "It's how I was able to have a few years break between you and Prim."

"Thank you," I say, giving her a hug.

She nods and smiles. "You'd better head over and get ready now. Prim is waiting to help you."

The delightful aroma of fresh bread and roasting poultry greets me as I enter our house, but Peeta is surprisingly not in the kitchen. "He went up to one of the spare bedrooms to get ready," Prim says. "Remember, you're not supposed to see each other until the wedding."

Prim leads me to our bedroom and I gasp when I see the dress that she has chosen for me. It looks like it was made for a toasting. Here in District 12 weddings are very simple. The woman usually rents a white dress that's been worn hundreds of times. The man wears something clean that's not mining clothes. They fill out some forms at the Justice Building and are assigned a house. Family and friends gather for a meal or a bit of cake, if it can be afforded. And then we have our own little toasting ceremony, where the couple builds their first fire together, toasts a bit of bread, and shares it. It might be old-fashioned, but no one in District 12 really feels married until after the toasting.

This dress that Prim has laid out on the bed looks very similar to a dress one would rent here in District 12. It's made of the softest cotton I've ever felt, but still cotton, instead of silk or some other fancy fabric. There's no beading or elaborate ribbons on it, it's very simple with cap sleeves, a scoop neckline and a gathered waist that ties with a bow in the back. There's some intricate blue stitching along the neckline and the hem, which, when I look at it more closely, I realize is the exact blue of Peeta's eyes.

It's like Cinna knew that I would need a dress like this. This dress was made for me to wear when I married Peeta, there's no question about it. I guess my feelings for Peeta really were that obvious to everyone but myself.

After a quick shower, Prim helps me into the dress and styles my hair for me, placing little flowers along the length of my braid, which she ties in a matching blue ribbon. There's even a pair of white sandals with blue stitching to complete the outfit.

"You look beautiful Katniss!" Prim exclaims, looking at my reflection in the full-length mirror on the wall.

"Thanks, Little Duck," I say, tears welling up in my eyes again.

Prim is wearing the same dress that she wore to the Victor party at the Mayor's mansion, and all of a sudden she looks so grown up. Even though I'm very excited to marry Peeta, some part of me still feels like I'm leaving my little sister alone. Which is silly; she'll just be across the street and I'm sure I'll still see her everyday, but... she's my little sister.

"You're going to be okay, right?" I ask, hugging her tightly.

She hugs me back just as tightly. "Yes, I'm going to be fine, really!" she says with a hint of exasperation in her voice. "I'm not losing a sister, I'm gaining a big brother!"

Well, when you look at it that way, then I guess she'll be just fine.

Before we know it six o'clock has rolled around and Mayor Undersee and Madge along with Mr. Mellark, Rye, Bannock and Casey, and Haymitch have appeared in our living room, all dressed in their best. My mother ushers them into the kitchen while Prim goes to fetch Peeta and bring him down. Finally she returns to fetch me, holding my hand as we walk down the stairs and towards the kitchen. Peeta gasps out loud when he sees me, the biggest smile I've ever seen on him stretching across his face. He grasps my hand as soon as he can reach me.

"You look absolutely beautiful," he says, his eyes glistening.

"You don't look bad yourself," I reply, my smile matching his. He really looks amazingly handsome in a simple white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a pair of blue pants that exactly match the decorative stitching on my dress. Apparently Portia was in on the toasting outfits too. He's even left his hair styled so it flops down over his forehead, and I teasingly brush it away before we both turn our attention to Mayor Undersee.

The mayor has spread out all the necessary forms on the kitchen table. "Will you be changing your name, Katniss?" he asks me.

"Yes," I say without hesitation. Peeta smiles next to me, and Mayor Undersee nods and pulls out another form.

"All right, then please sign this one first," he says, handing me a pen.

I sign Katniss Everdeen twice, then Katniss Mellark at the very bottom. I mess up on the k a little at the end which causes Casey to chuckle. "I've been practicing my k's just for that reason," she says, winking at me.

Next is the official marriage form, which Peeta and I both sign, followed by my mother and Mr. Mellark since we are still under 18, and then Rye and Bannock as official witnesses. And just like that, we are officially married.

"I now present, Mr. and Mrs. Peeta Mellark," the mayor says, and everyone cheers.

Peeta grabs me around the waist and kisses me, lifting me off my feet and causing everyone to laugh. "I guess you can kiss your bride now," the mayor adds, laughing along with everyone else.

"Let's eat now, I'm starving!" I say, trying to cover up my embarrassment at being the center of attention.

Peeta kisses me again and sets me gently down on my chair at the table. "I'll get you some food," he says, putting his finger over my lips when I start to protest.

After Mr. Mellark expertly carves the birds and my mother finishes setting out the bowls of vegetables and Peeta's homemade rolls, everyone fills a plate and digs in. And as Peeta sets my plate down in front of me before taking his place at the head of the table, I look around at the people gathered here, my family, and smile, thinking that my father would be very happy indeed.


	19. The Toasting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Toasting! :)

PPOV

I can tell Katniss is getting antsy for people to leave as we finish our delicious dinner. There's a limit to her tolerance for being the center of attention, even from our own family. Our family. That thought makes me smile and I reach for her hand.

"How about I bring the cake out now?" I ask her. "Then after that we can get these people out of here and have our toasting?"

"Please?" she whispers, her eyes pleading and her hand tightly squeezing mine.

I kiss her fingers quickly before standing up and clearing my throat to get our guests' attention. "If everyone is ready, I'd like to bring the cake out now."

"I'm always ready for cake!" Prim exclaims, then claps her hand over her mouth. Everyone laughs and once the dinner dishes are removed and stacked next to the sink, I head for the counter where I've hidden the cake under a metal dome. I place it carefully in the center of the table and remove the dome.

Instead of a traditional wedding cake covered in roses, I created one that I thought represented us. There's a katniss flower on one side and a dandelion on the other side, both growing up from the ground, with the roots from both of them intertwined underneath the soil line. At the very bottom I've written the words By Your Side Always. Katniss gasps when she sees it.

"It's beautiful!" she breathes out. Everyone else is oohing and aahing also, but I'm still looking at her. Katniss has tears running down her face. "I don't want to cut it, it's so beautiful." Behind her I can hear Prim and Mrs. Everdeen commenting on how beautiful it is. They of course recognize both of the plants, but don't understand why I am a dandelion, unless it has something to do with my blond hair. I have to explain to my father and brothers what the plants are, but neither of us want to explain the significance of the dandelion. That is just for the two of us.

Katniss at first refuses to cut it, repeating that she doesn't want to eat it since it's so beautiful. It's only after I make repeated promises to paint it as soon as possible that she finally relents, and together we cut and serve each other our first bite of cake. Her eyes close in pleasure as she eats her mouthful, and Prim loves hers so much that she grabs another piece. Casey insists that I make the toasting cake for her and Bannock, to which Bannock reluctantly agrees. "You always could bake better than me, little brother," he says, ruffling my hair.

Finally, after the cake is eaten, with one large piece saved for us to share on our one-month anniversary, and Mrs. Everdeen, Madge, and Casey finish with the dishes, and they all take turns hugging and kissing and congratulating us, the door finally closes behind them all as they sing the traditional toasting song and we are left alone in our kitchen.

I reach for Katniss and pull her into my arms, giving her a gentle kiss before lifting her up and carrying her towards the fireplace. "Let's toast some bread."

She just nods, her eyes never leaving mine as I gently place her on the blanket I'd laid out on the floor in front of the fireplace. As I light the pile of wood and twigs and it roars to life, Katniss positions herself so that her knees are both off to one side instead of the traditional kneeling position. Once again I'm floored with how well she knows me.  Knowing how difficult it is for me to kneel properly with my prosthetic leg, she didn't even hesitate to change it so I could be more comfortable.

As I hand her the round loaf of bread that I baked today just for this purpose I see her eyes fill with tears. I've essentially made one large cheese bun for us to share. I had thought briefly about making a raisin and nut loaf, similar to the ones that I threw her in the rain on that day, but those were burnt and given to her out of desperation and I had only grabbed those because they were what was handy at the time. For our toasting, I wanted to bake for her what I know she loves.

Katniss tears the loaf in two and hands me my half, both of us fastening them onto the ends of a toasting fork and extending them towards the fire. The smell of toasting bread and melting cheese starts to permeate the room, and once the pieces are golden brown and the cheese is bubbly, we pull them out of the flame and face each other.

I pull my piece off first, my hands more used to handling hot bread than hers. Clearing my throat, I say the words that for so long I thought I would only say in my dreams.

"Katniss. I have loved you for my whole life, and I promise to love you for my whole life. I promise to protect you, take care of you, and keep you fed. I will stay by your side, always, no matter what happens." And I feed her the piece of bread from my hand, her mouth kissing my thumb as I brush the crumbs off her bottom lip.

Her eyes are glistening with tears threatening to fall and she has to swallow twice and clear her throat before she can speak.

"Peeta. You gave me hope when I had none. You showed me love when I thought I was unlovable, and you taught me how to love. I promise to love you, to protect you, to take care of you, and to stay by your side always, no matter what happens."

Now tears are falling down my face, and I fight the urge to pinch myself to make sure that this hasn't been all a dream. As she feeds me my piece of toasted bread, she rests her other hand over mine and tugs me towards her as soon as I finish chewing. Our lips meet, the kiss tasting like cake and cheese and toasted bread, and it's the most wonderful kiss we've ever shared, our first kiss as husband and wife.

We sit and cuddle by the fire for a while, sharing sweet kisses and laughing occasionally about my brothers' antics during the dinner tonight. Both of them were in the best moods I have seen them in in a long time. Even Haymitch seemed to enjoy himself, laughing and offering the occasional funny story about when he and our parents were in school. It seems like our relationship is brightening people's lives all over District 12.

After a while the fire has died down some and I suggest that we head up to bed. Katniss just nods at first, but yelps in protest as I pick her up to carry her upstairs. "Peeta, you shouldn't be carrying me with your leg..".

"Nonsense," I say, kissing her nose. "You hardly weigh anything, and it's tradition for the groom to carry the bride over the threshold after the toasting." I carry her up the stairs and into our bedroom, placing her gently on the bed and taking her hand.

"You know I don't expect us to make love tonight," I tell her. Her eyes widen and she starts to open her mouth, but I put my finger to her lips to cut her off.

"I know you're not ready for that," I say gently, running my fingers over the end of her braid. "I want us to work our way to that point slowly, and you can tell me when you're ready, and I don't mind how long it takes." I seal my words with a kiss. "Now I'm going to run you a bath while I clean up a little downstairs, and then we'll go to bed."

I kiss her again and move to head for the bathroom when she grabs my hand. "Peeta," she says, her beautiful silver eyes again glistening with tears. "Thank you."

I lean down to kiss her again. "Of course," I whisper. "You're not the only one who's nervous about it," I add, giving her a wink.

After I get her comfortable in the bathtub I head back downstairs to tidy up a little. Most of the dishes were done already, so I just clean up the crumbs by the fireplace and replace the gate in front of it so no sparks can escape. Then I wipe the table down and pause for a minute, trying to give Katniss enough time to get ready for bed before I head back upstairs. Since she's so quiet when she walks I know I won't hear her moving around. After I wait about ten minutes I walk back up the stairs, trying to be as quiet as possible in case she's not ready yet, but she's resting on the bed wearing another one of my t-shirts and brushing her hair when I poke my head in.

"Can I do that for you?" I ask, reaching for her hairbrush.

She nods with a surprised look on her face and hands me the brush, turning so her back is to me. It's not often that I get to play with her hair when it's out of its usual braid, so I take my time running the brush through her dark hair, marveling at how silky and luxurious it feels when I run my hands through it. I can hear Katniss sighing in pleasure as I massage her scalp a little bit. "You're going to put me to sleep," she mumbles, "and I still want to rub your leg."

"You don't have to do that tonight, it's not sore," I protest, not wanting to stop playing with her hair.

But she turns around and takes the brush away from me. "It's not sore now," she chastises, "and I want it to stay that way. Now get ready for bed."

"Yes, love," I say as I get heavily off the bed and walk to the bathroom. I guess I am more tired than I thought I was. It's been a busy day.

I shower quickly and pull on my pajamas. Katniss is already waiting with the little jar of cream when I get back to the bedroom. I take a deep breath. There will be no hiding anything tonight.

Katniss scoops some of the cream into her hand and warms it between them a little before she starts to rub it into my leg. It's about three seconds before I feel that familiar stirring in my groin. It's about three more seconds before Katniss notices and I see her eyes widen.

"Oh," she whispers. "Does it feel good?"

I take a deep breath. "You have no idea, the effect you have on me," I whisper back, putting my hands on her face and kissing her forehead. "That's a good thing, Katniss. It means that you make me feel really, really good." She nods, her eyes still wide.

"Do you want me to keep going?"

I nod my head. "If you don't mind." "Okay," she says, putting her hands back onto my leg and rubbing vigorously with her practiced strokes.

After all of the cream is rubbed in and she's washed her hands, she crawls under the covers with me and lays her head down on my chest.

"Peeta?" she asks tentatively.

"Hmm?"

"Does that happen a lot?"

"Yeah," I admit, a little sheepishly. "You have to remember, Katniss, I'm a guy who's been in love with you for a long time. It hasn't been easy hiding it before now. I didn't want to scare you, or make you think I was some sort of creep." I feel her arms tighten around me.

"Does it hurt?" she asks, concern lacing her voice.

"No, not really. I can get a little uncomfortable sometimes, but it's not really painful, and you don't have to worry about me," I answer, punctuating my sentence with a kiss.

We lay there in silence for a few minutes and I wonder if she's fallen asleep.

"Peeta?" she asks. Nope, she's still awake.

"Hmm?"

"Would you want to touch me?"

"Like I did last night?"

"Yes."

"Yes I would, but only if you want me to."

She kisses the dimple on my chin and turns over in my arms, taking my hand and placing it directly on her breast. This time I lightly brush my hand across it before squeezing it very gently. Katniss gasps and thrusts her hips against me, causing me to hiss as I thrust forward and press my erection right against her back.

"Do you feel that?" I whisper in her ear, my voice practically a growl.

"Uh huh," she replies shakily.

"That's what you do to me," I say. "And I love you so much, and I am so blessed, so very blessed to have you as my wife, Katniss. And when we're both ready, I'm going to show you how much I love you every day that you'll let me." She pulls my hand up to kiss it before placing it back over her breast and rubbing her back against me one more time.

"I love you too," she says. I kiss the back of her head one more time before we both fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some people may think that it's odd that I didnt have Katniss and Peeta have a "traditional" wedding night. It's my understanding of Katniss's character that she's pretty naive, and I thought Peeta would be respectful of that and willing to move slowly with her. :)


	20. Explorations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little Everlark sexy time. ;)

KPOV

As I wake up in Peeta's arms, his chest and hips flush against my back, I can feel that hard part of him pressed up against me. I moan quietly, thinking about how it felt when he touched my breast last night. I can feel his warm breath against my hair and his arm tighten around my waist. I instinctively try to move closer to him and am rewarded with him thrusting his hips lightly against me, causing us both to gasp.

"Good morning, love," he whispers into my ear. "What do you want for breakfast today?"

I roll over in his arms and bring my arm around his waist, pulling his hips flush against mine, causing him to hiss and squeeze his eyes closed. "Did I hurt you?" I ask sheepishly.

"No," he says, exhaling loudly. "It feels really good. You make me feel good."

"But don't you need to..." I try to continue but I can't remember the name for what I'm trying to say and I turn away, feeling embarrassed.

My mother was pretty much out of commission for the entire time I was going through puberty, and although I sat through the same generic sex ed talk at school that Peeta probably did, I don't have any older siblings with experience like Peeta does to ask for advice. And, before the Games, the struggle to keep from starving to death always seemed to preempt learning or even thinking about sex.

Peeta puts his fingers under my chin, turning my head to look at him. "You don't need to worry about me," he says firmly. "I want to make you feel good, and that makes me feel good too."

"But," I start to say before Peeta cuts me off with a kiss. It starts off sweet, like all of our kisses do, but quickly turns more passionate. This time though Peeta brings his hand between us and starts caressing my breast, causing me to break the kiss with a moan.

"Is this okay?" he asks, his blue eyes dark and hooded. I nod my head quickly and tug on his neck to bring his lips back to mine. I feel his tongue run along my bottom lip and I open my mouth to let him in, feeling his hips thrust against me at the same time.

" _Peeta_ ," I breathe out as he brings his lips down my jaw and finds that spot on my neck that makes my whole body quiver. He sucks on that spot for a minute before moving to my ear. "What do you want for breakfast?" he whispers, kissing my earlobe and moving back up towards my mouth.

I'm unable to answer right away with all of the sensations coursing through me. When he pulls back and looks into my eyes, raising one eyebrow in question, I can finally find my voice again. "Cheese buns," I say breathily. It's the first thing I can think of.

Peeta kisses me deeply one more time before pecking me lightly on the lips. "Sounds great," he says, his voice raspy and his face flushed. "Are you going to go hunting this morning?"

I nod, still having trouble forming words. "Yes, I'd like to stock up some while the weather's still warm," I finally manage.

One more kiss. "That's a good idea," he says, before sitting up and helping me do the same.

Our days are a pleasant routine. I hunt, Peeta bakes, Haymitch drinks. We drag him out for meals every now and then, and since I finally convinced him to hire Hazelle as his housekeeper I no longer have to brace myself when I enter his house. I split my hauls from the forest between my mother and Prim, Gale's family, and us, while still bringing some things to the Hob every week. I also let my mother and Prim keep all of my Victor money, since Peeta and I can live more than comfortably on his winnings alone.

Peeta starts going to the bakery a few days a week, mainly to help with decorating cakes for the last round of toastings before the end of summer. I can tell how much he enjoys it though, he's always in a great mood when he gets home, even if his mother was there.

Two weeks after our toasting is Bannock and Casey's wedding, which is held at the Justice Building and then dinner at their new home near the Square. Peeta does the baking for the toasting loaf and bakes and decorates their cake. It's the first time we've both been around Mrs. Mellark since our wedding and we were hoping that the joy of the occasion would be enough for her to be in a good mood. As soon as she sees me, however, I see her lips pinch shut and her eyes narrow. Only the presence of Casey's parents, who own the General Store where Bannock is apprenticed, keeps her from speaking her thoughts. So she simply refuses to talk to us at all, which is fine with both Peeta and me, and instead decides to focus her attention on Madge and Rye who are appearing together in front of her for the first time. My heart goes out to Madge. It's hard enough to have your mother-in-law dislike and basically ignore you, I can't imagine how it would be for her to be trying to suck up to you all the time. A match between her son and the Mayor's daughter would be a dream come true for her.

Every night Peeta and I spend time exploring each other, and after each night I feel like my body can't tolerate any more pleasure, only to have him prove me wrong the following night. The night he slips his hand under the t-shirt I'm wearing leads to him removing the shirt, which leads to his mouth on one of my breasts while his hand caresses the other. He is so gentle and loving with his touches and caresses; always asking my permission before going farther than what I'm familiar with.

I learn what he likes as well. The first time I take off his shirt and our bare chests connect is exquisite, and after that he starts coming to bed shirtless. I learn that he loves it when I kiss him right where his jaw meets his neck and on his cheekbones right underneath his eyes. I learn that he loves it if I tug on his hair just right and when I wrap one of my legs around his. I also spend plenty of time running my hands over his broad chest and abdomen. His chest hair, which was removed for the Hunger Games, has just now started to grow back in and it's so soft and silky I can barely keep my hands away.

Today is our one-month anniversary and we decide to celebrate by spending the whole day together. Peeta brings me breakfast in bed, then we go for a long walk around the District and visit the Hob. We have lunch with Rye and Madge during Rye's break and then start to work on the Plant Book. That takes most of the afternoon, with us only stopping because our stomachs start to growl. We make dinner together and eat the saved piece from our wedding cake as dessert.

After we get ready for bed and Peeta finishes brushing my hair, he turns to me and hands me a small box. At first I'm sad that I didn't think to buy him a gift but he waves my concerns aside. "Just open it, Katniss," he says, looking nervous.

Inside the box is a small, simple band ring. It's silver-colored and has small green stones alternating with orange stones across the top.

"It's a wedding ring," Peeta explains, pulling it out of the box and placing it on my ring finger. "I designed it and I asked Portia to have it made for me. See here? The green stones are your favorite color, and also your birthstone since you were born in May. The orange stones are my favorite color and are also my birthstone, since I was born in November." Then he kisses my hand right over the ring. "It's like we were meant to be together," he whispers. I can only nod, looking down at my beautiful ring. It's even made so it lies flush against my finger, so as not to interfere at all with my hunting.

I swipe at my eyes, trying not to let the tears fall. "It's so beautiful Peeta," I say, my voice shaky. "But I should have bought you a ring also."

"I don't need one," he insists. "I'd probably just lose it in a loaf of bread anyway," he adds, winking at me. I can't help but laugh; that must be one of the reasons why I never see his dad wearing a wedding ring.

I take extra care massaging Peeta's leg tonight, knowing it's probably sore after our long walk this morning. Feeling brave when I'm finished, I lean down and kiss his erection through his boxers, causing him to cry out in pleasure and nearly buck right off the bed.

"Katniss!" he says a minute later, still breathing heavily. He sits up and takes my face into his hands, kissing me with such force I'm pushed backwards onto the bed. "Can I touch you?" he asks, his voice husky and his eyes dark with, what's it called, lust?

"Yes!" I say. Peeta wastes no time crushing my lips with his, his tongue finding mine quickly before moving down to map my jaw and neck. I can feel his fingers running along the hemline of the t-shirt I'm wearing, always asking permission first.

"Go ahead," I say, my voice low and my breath hitching as he plants kisses along my collarbone. He quickly whips the shirt over my head and leans down over me as his mouth kisses down to my left breast. He circles around the nipple with his tongue first before taking it into his mouth, causing my back to arch up. My fingers are alternating between threading through his hair and running up and down his back. My breaths are coming in ragged gasps, and there's a throbbing ache building up between my legs.

"Katniss," I hear him whisper, kissing his way back up to my ear. "Can I try something new tonight?"

Somehow my brain connects back to my mouth and I'm able to speak. "Yes, please," I whisper, wanting something, anything to soothe this growing ache.

He starts to trail kisses across my chest until he reaches my right breast this time, circling and sucking and gently biting my nipple as I feel his other hand slowly start running down my side, very gently, up and down. On the next pass he brings his fingers across my abdomen, right over my belly button, before going back up again. His lips start trailing back up my neck to my mouth as his fingers make another pass down, this time stopping right below my belly button, his fingertips paused right at the top of my underwear.

" _Peeta_ ," I moan as my hips twitch up to meet his hand and my eyes snap shut.

"Just relax, love," he whispers, kissing along my jawline and down the side of my neck. His hand lifts my leg up so its draped over his thigh and his fingers gently trail back to my belly and slip underneath the waistband of my underwear, slowly working their way down until they find the apex of my thighs. We both shudder as his fingertips reach my folds and slip inside.

"Katniss, you're so wet," he whispers, still trailing kisses up and down my cheek and jaw. My breath hitches in my throat. "That means you like this, that you feel good, that I make you feel good."

"Yes," I say, unable to keep my hips from moving gently against his hand. "Peeta, please don't stop."

"Put your arms around my neck, Katniss," he says, still running his fingers gently through my slick folds. I fling my arms around him and bury my face into his chest as he starts moving his fingers just a little faster before slipping one gently inside me, causing us both to moan. "Katniss, you're perfect," he whispers, carefully pulling his finger out before pushing it back in.

"Mmph," is all I can get out, until I feel his calloused fingertip brush over something that causes my entire lower body to stiffen. "Peeta!" I cry out, tightening my arms around his neck. My entire body feels like it's burning, every nerve seems to be firing at once. His fingertips brush over that spot again and again I cry out. "Aahh!"

"Do you like that, my love?" Peeta whispers into my ear.

"Yes, yes, yes." I'm panting now, any embarrassment I might have felt completely forgotten as he slips his finger back inside me while his thumb traces circles around that spot, making my whole body shudder. I can feel something new building inside my belly, like a fuse has been lit inside me. I shudder again, my breaths coming only in gasps, my eyes wide, clinging tightly to him like he's my lifeline.

"It's okay Katniss, just relax and let yourself go," I hear him whisper. All of a sudden the bomb explodes, shooting spikes of pleasure throughout my body as I cry out Peeta's name over and over.

As I come down gradually from my high, feeling like all the bones in my body have turned to mush, I can vaguely hear Peeta whispering words of love next to me.

"That was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he says, raining tiny kisses over my face. "Now go to sleep, I'm right here with you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never written anything remotely like this before, so hopefully it's not too cringe-worthy! :)


	21. Peeta's Deep Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little snippet of Peeta's thoughts. :)

PPOV

Katniss falls asleep within minutes after her orgasm. That was the hottest thing I've ever seen, even better than the fantasies I used to have in my old room over the bakery late at night. Sometimes I still have to pinch myself that she is really here, with me, willingly in my bed, married to me. I've been in love with her for so long that I'd almost convinced myself that I would forever be loving her from afar. It's kind of a sick irony that it took us going through the Hunger Games to change all that, but I'll take it. I'd go through all of that again if it meant that we would be where we are now.

I can see the outline of her spine in the moonlight coming through the bedroom window. This is the first time that she's fallen asleep without her sleep shirt on, and I'm itching to run my hands over her smooth skin again; from her neck down to her small, perky breasts that fit perfectly into my hands and down to that glorious part of her between her legs that I was able to touch for the first time tonight. 

My raging hard-on is a more pressing issue right now. It is taking all of my willpower to keep from grinding against her back in the hopes it will relieve some of the aching. Bringing her to her first ever climax tonight with my own fingers was incredible to witness, and I almost came myself watching it. Almost.

The more I think about how beautiful she looked as she came, her eyes wide, panting my name and clinging to me, the harder I get, until I realize that I need to help myself if there is any hope of me getting any sleep tonight. I feel creepy touching myself while lying next to her so I decide to take a shower. Slowly I slide my arm out from under her shoulders and sit up on the bed. I debate attaching my prosthetic and decide against it, opting to use the rails that Effie had installed in the bedroom and bathroom. I hop towards the bathroom, trying to be as silent as I can so I don't wake Katniss.

I remember being so embarrassed when I woke up in the hospital attached to the Tribute Center and was told that I'd lost my leg. After everything Katniss and I had been through in that arena; after all that she had done to fix my original wound and how we had nursed each other back to health before that final showdown with Cato, it was just me not being quite fast enough in climbing up the Cornucopia that caused all this.

Not fast enough. Not good enough. I'd heard it my whole life. And now I wasn't even a whole person anymore. Why on earth would Katniss still want me?

I was told that embarrassment and shame were normal feelings associated with processing the loss of a limb, but the people telling me those things; the surgically perfected Capitol doctors, could have no clue what I really was feeling. I had spent my entire life feeling embarrassment and shame. Some of my earliest memories were of my mother yelling at my father that she'd wished I'd been born a girl, since a third son born into a Merchant family was pretty much worthless. Then I always seemed to grow out of proportion, so often times I was wearing clothes and shoes that were either too big or too small. I showed artistic talent at a young age, but my mother didn't allow me to purchase any pencils or paper other than what they gave us at school, and I wasn't allowed to start decorating the cakes until Bannock aged out and became apprenticed at the General Store.

And then, there was Katniss. From when I was five years old and heard her sing for the first time, to when she was 11 and I saw her in the rain, bent over and clearly starving, to just a few months ago when we were in the Hunger Games together, thoughts of her occupied my brain so much of the time that the spaced out expression I often wore just fueled my mother's views that I was stupid and worthless, not someone worthy of love and positive attention. 

Yeah, she lashed out at my brothers on occasion too. Bannock the least of all; he's the oldest and was smart in school, never got reaped, became apprenticed to a noble professional and chose a proper Merchant girl for a wife. Rye, as the middle kid, was more of a prankster, more loud and obnoxious, and as such earned himself a few beatings. His way of coping by being a player didn't even seem to phase our mother, since most of the girls he "played" with were "Seam rats" so therefore out of the range of Town gossip circles.

That just left me. Head always in the clouds, spaced-out, awkward Peeta. Even though I became a championship wrestler, and my cakes were the most popular at the bakery, and I even won the freaking Hunger Games, I was still just Peeta. The third son. A cripple. Worthless.

But not to Katniss. In my wildest dreams I never could have predicted that we would both be allowed to win, together. I went into that arena prepared to give my life for her, as much as my life was worth, I was going to die so she could hopefully live and make it home. But no, she had other plans. She didn't turn on me in the arena even when it appeared as if I had turned on her. She came looking for me as soon as the rule change was announced, ignored her personal squeamishness to clean me up, risked her life to get my medicine when I was close to death, and at the end, when given a choice, chose to die along with me instead of going home as a Victor alone.

When I stop to think of it that way, I should have known right then that Katniss's feelings for me were genuine.

And now? She was here, in my home, in my bed, as my wife. She tells me every day with her words and actions just how not worthless I am. When I look into her silvery eyes I see love and desire and compassion, not pity or disdain. She doesn't see a broken and awkward teenage boy when she looks at me. She sees me as a Victor, as a painter, a baker, a man who likes to sleep with the windows open and who doesn't like sugar in his tea. She sees me, her husband. And she loves me.

I make it into the shower and sit on my shower chair; another gift from Effie. The hot water feels refreshing raining down on my neck and shoulders as I squeeze some of the liquid soap into my palm. Thankfully it isn't the roses-smelling stuff that they had in the Tribute Center showers. This one is vanilla-scented and smells nice without being overpowering. 

Gripping my rock-hard erection I gasp loudly, thankful for the sound of the shower to drown out my moans. There is no way I could be silent tonight. By the third stroke I can already feel my climax building, and I squeeze my eyes shut as I picture Katniss lying in my arms coming down from her orgasm. Two more strokes and my own orgasm follows with a loud gasp, the evidence washing down the drain with the soapsuds. Breathing deeply, I lean back under the shower spray and soak my head for a moment.

Turning off the shower, I grab a fluffy towel to dry myself off and sit down on the toilet seat, trying to catch my breath so I'm not panting like a dog once I get back to the bed. After I calm down a little, I pick up my discarded boxers, slip them back on and make my way out of the bathroom, turning off the light behind me.

Once I enter the bedroom the first thing I can see is that Katniss has rolled onto her back, exposing her bare chest. The moonlight shining off of her gorgeous body makes me gasp and I can feel myself getting hard again. My God, she is so incredibly beautiful. I sit back down on the bed trying not to disturb her, and again my hands are begging me to run them over her body. The soft breeze coming in the window makes her nipples harden, weakening my resolve even more. I take a couple of deep breaths; reminding myself that I'm letting her set the pace, and crawl back under the covers. As I slide my arm around her waist she rolls over so her back is against my chest. As I pull her gently closer to me I hear my name escape her lips as a sigh as her hand comes up to rest on my arm. 

"I love you," I whisper, kissing her head lightly and closing my eyes. 

"Mmmm," I hear her whisper back. "Love you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to thank everyone for your amazing support of my little story! I'm having a lot of fun with it and I really appreciate all the kind and constructive reviews!


	22. A Trip to the Lake

KPOV

Summer is quickly coming to an end. The days are getting shorter and there's the beginnings of a chill in the air in the evenings. I can tell Peeta is still asleep as I wake up gradually, feeling his heavy arm over my waist and his bare chest against my back. I snuggle closer, reveling in the feel of his skin against mine and am rewarded with him tightening his arm around my waist. The sun is just starting to come up and the room is bathed in warm sunlight.

I'm just on the brink of falling asleep again when he squeezes me tight and starts to stretch, kissing my neck and shoulders in between stretches. I roll over in his arms to face him and am rewarded with a sleepy smile. "I'd like to take you somewhere special today, if you're up to it," I tell him, gently kissing his neck and chin.

He smiles even bigger. "Of course I'm up for it," he says, kissing me lightly on the nose.

"It's about a two hour walk from here, outside of the fence," I warn him. I'm concerned how he will be able to make it that far over uneven terrain with his prosthetic leg. But he shakes his head at me, kissing my nose again.

"I'll be fine. I'd follow you anywhere. I'll pack up a lunch for us to take along. But first, I need a shower," he says, kissing my lips this time and sitting up to start putting on his prosthesis. I try to suppress the twinge of guilt that I have every time I see him attaching his fake leg. I know it bothers him when I dwell on it, and I know that he absolutely doesn't blame me for it. But I still blame myself a little, even though he would have bled to death if I hadn't used the tourniquet on him. I make a mental note to pack along his leg cream so I can apply it on him once we get to the lake.

The sun is shining brightly as we arrive at the lake. Peeta didn't complain a single time during the hike here, but I can tell by his sweaty face and gulping breaths that he is happy we've finally arrived. We spread out one of the blankets that we brought and sit down, catching our breaths and looking out at the glassy surface of the lake.

"This place is beautiful!" Peeta says, still slightly out of breath and reaching for my hand. "How did you know it was here?"

"My father and I discovered it one day when we were out hunting," I reply, snuggling closer to him and bringing his hand up to my lips to kiss his knuckles. "He taught me how to swim here the summer before he died." Peeta puts his arm around my waist and kisses the top of my head. "I used to come out here sometimes after he was killed. To remind myself of him."

I sit up and look Peeta straight in the eye, putting my hand on his cheek. "I've never brought anyone else here before. I've never wanted to share this place with anyone until now." Peeta's eyes fill with tears as he realizes what I mean, and he turns his head to kiss my palm resting against his face.

We relax on the blanket and eat our lunch that Peeta packed; sandwiches and cheese buns, strawberries and two leftover pieces of pie that Peeta made the other night when we invited Haymitch over for dinner. After we eat I lean back onto the blanket and close my eyes while Peeta grabs his sketchbook and pencil and starts to draw. After a while I lean up on my elbow and watch him; his brow furrowed in concentration and the corner of his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. I can see the sunbeams filtering through his pale eyelashes, which are so long I'm surprised they don't get tangled together. His large hands moving the pencil so precisely over the paper remind me of how his hands move so softly over my body and I can feel a blush rising up my neck onto my cheeks.

After a couple of minutes he seems to sense me watching him and glances down at me. "What?" he asks playfully, smirking at me.

Not wanting to admit just how strongly I was ogling him, I quickly look away. "Nothing," I reply, trying to hide the redness on my cheeks by studying our picnic blanket. "Actually, I was wondering if you wanted me to teach you how to swim?" I ask tentatively.

His eyebrows raise in surprise and he puts down his sketchbook. "But we didn't bring any swimming clothes," he says with a chuckle, which makes my skin heat up even more at the thought of Peeta swimming in his undershorts.

I shake my head, trying to sound more casual than I'm feeling. "I've always just swam in my underwear," I stammer out. "We never had any special swimming clothes."

Peeta tilts his head to the side, shrugs, and moves to take off his shirt. "Okay, that sounds fun," he says, smirking again as he unbuttons his pants and slides them off.

I watch him closely, taking in his strong, broad chest and arms. I realize that I've never looked at him this closely without his clothes on. I've felt his chest and arms holding me close to him, but it's always been either fully clothed or under the cover of darkness. I've felt his smooth skin against mine, but until now I hadn't really taken a moment to appreciate just how absolutely gorgeous he is. I stand there gaping, not realizing my mouth is hanging open until he waves his hand in front of my face, snapping me back to reality.

"Are you coming too?" he asks with laughter in his voice.

"Y-yes," I stammer, shaking my head and feeling the heat burn up to my face and down my neck again. I suppress the urge to fling my arms around his neck and kiss him senseless and instead turn my back on him to remove my outer shirt and pants, leaving me in my tank top and undershorts and trying to hide the fact that I'm still trying to catch my breath. Turning back around, I smile at him and take his hand to lead him into the water.

We splash around in the water, Peeta tentatively trying to copy my movements. I show him how to float on his back and front and demonstrate a couple of the more basic strokes. Peeta picks it up rather quickly, which isn't all that surprising to me. He isn't the most graceful person on land, but after just an hour or so in the water he moves almost more effortlessly than I do. He seems truly happy and it brings tears to my eyes to see him act like he doesn't have a care in the world, at least for a little while. It isn't until I look up and see that the sun has already moved across the tops of the trees that I realize we've lost track of time and should start back soon if we wanted to reach the fence before sunset. I swim towards him and grab him around the waist from behind, pulling him towards me and kissing his broad shoulders.

"We need to get going soon," I whisper reluctantly into his ear. "I want to make sure we reach the fence before it gets dark outside. The woods can get dangerous after dark."

Peeta turns around to face me and pulls me flush against him, kissing me lightly before crushing me into a hug. "Thank you for bringing me here," he whispers against my neck. "I can't remember when I have felt so carefree."

I pull back to look at him and cup his cheek with my hand. "You're welcome," I whisper back, putting my arms around his neck to hug him again.

As we come out of the water I start to shiver. The weather is cooling off in the late afternoon and I can't seem to stop my teeth from chattering as I make my way quickly back to our picnic blanket. Peeta sits down and grabs the extra blanket, positioning us so that I'm sitting between his legs with my back against his chest. He wraps us both up in the blanket and rubs my arms vigorously, trying to warm me up.

After a couple of minutes I'm able to relax and lean my head back onto his shoulder. I close my eyes and am just relishing the feel of him so close to me when I feel him pull my braid to the side and start planting slow kisses on my neck. I cannot help but sigh in contentment and try to snuggle closer to him. His kisses are warming my body much better than the blanket had been. I tilt my head to allow him better access and feel his hand on my cheek, turning my head so he can capture my lips with his. The kiss starts off sweet and warm, but quickly turns more fiery and passionate. I wrap my arm around his neck to hold him to me while he runs his tongue along my bottom lip, begging to deepen the kiss. My mouth opens up to him eagerly and my arm tightens around his neck, not wanting to let go of him. I can feel the warmth from his lips spreading down my chest and throughout the rest of my body.

When we break apart we are both breathing heavily. Peeta rests his forehead against my cheek and kisses it lightly. "I'm sorry," he whispers. "It's just that your neck is so pretty and it was right in front of me and I couldn't help it...".

I silence him with another kiss before answering. "You don't have to apologize for anything," I say, tugging gently on his hair. "I liked it."

All of a sudden I feel his warm hands on my hips, turning me around so that I can straddle his lap. Tightening the blanket around us, he pulls me flush against his chest and starts trailing kisses down my jawline and my neck to my collarbone.

"Don't you think we should get you out of this wet top?" he whispers against my skin. "I don't want you getting sick, and the front of your shirt is really cold!"

Pulling back slightly, I smirk at him before pulling my still-damp tank top over my head and tossing it aside. I quickly snuggle back against him and find that spot on his neck that makes him shiver. I can feel his growing erection between my legs and unconsciously begin to grind against him, still planting kisses on his neck. He inhales loudly, bringing his hands to my bottom and squeezing, pulling me impossibly closer to him. He pulls the tie from the end of my braid and starts unraveling it until he can run his fingers through my hair. He brings one of his hands up to my head to massage my scalp, holding me close with his other and thrusting gently against me.

All at once it's like a train hits me. I thought that I'd understood how much Peeta loves me. He'd noticed me first when we were five years old, he'd watched me for eleven years trying to work up the nerve to talk to me. We had been reaped together, forcing him to face the reality (at least for him) that we would never be together. He'd been prepared to sacrifice his life for mine in the arena. By some miracle we were both allowed to live and now he was here with me. Loving me, protecting me, waiting patiently for me. I'm still getting used to these intense feelings that I have when we are together like this but I can't bear to be without him now. I had condemned myself to a lifetime of solitude before Peeta came along and made his home in my heart. But now? I want to watch him paint and bake so I can watch his impossibly long eyelashes glint in the sun and watch him bite on his bottom lip in concentration. I want him with me in the woods while I hunt because the woods is my safe place, my sanctuary, and I want to share it with him. I want to feel his large hand holding my small one while we walk into Town, proudly showing everyone that we are together and happy. Peeta has shown me so much in the short time we've been home. I finally understand. This is love. Complete, all-encompassing love. Peeta is my husband and I love him. I'm in love with him. And it's about time that I show him.

I bring both of my hands up to cup his cheeks. "Peeta," I whisper, looking into his deep blue eyes, his hand still fisted in my hair. "I'm ready."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a few more chapters before the Victory Tour! :)


	23. By the Lake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She's ready. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little fumbly, a little awkward, and Peeta probably talks too much, but here it is! :)

PPOV

"Peeta" she whispers to me, cupping my cheeks tenderly in her tiny hands. "I'm ready."

My eyes narrow and then widen as I realize what she's talking about. "You want to do it here?" I ask in shock. I definitely wasn't expecting this to happen today, least of all while we are outside and illegally deep in the forest.

She nods her head and kisses my cheeks underneath my eyes, so gently it makes me shudder. "Yes," she whispers, moving her kisses up my cheek towards my ear. "I love you Peeta, and I want to show you how much I love you. You've been patient enough."

A horrible thought enters my mind and I pull back from her abruptly, pain registering in my face as I gape at her. "Oh Katniss, if I have ever given you any reason to think that my love for you was dependent on the progression of our physical relationship-".

I'm stopped abruptly with her fingers on my lips. "Shhhh," she soothes, rubbing her thumb over my bottom lip. "I know that, I've never thought that at all," she whispers sweetly, leaning forward to brush my lips with hers. After pulling back she looks me straight in the eye, her grey eyes shining. "I love you Peeta. And I want to show you how much you mean to me. Make me yours." She states the last part so firmly there is no more room in my mind for confusion.

"Okay," I whisper, taking a minute to just look at her, this beautiful girl who wanted to be with me, who married me and is now offering me the most priceless of gifts. I can feel myself start to shiver again and it has nothing to do with the breeze this time.

Slowly I lean forward and kiss her, just the lightest brush of my lips against hers. She whimpers softly, her hands reaching around my neck to play with my hair. She smiles at me with that soft smile that's reserved only for me and that does it. I lean forward again and kiss her hard, pulling her as tightly against me as I can without hurting her. She opens her mouth to me, allowing my tongue entrance and making us both moan. She grinds her hips into mine and I can feel the warmth coming up from her center despite the damp underwear she's still wearing. I pull away from her mouth and start trailing kisses down her jaw and neck at the same time as one of my hands reaches between us and finds her bare breast. She gasps as I squeeze it gently, her nipple already hard and her skin pebbled. I run my thumb gently over her nipple and gently bite her neck before flipping us over so she's lying underneath me.

Looking into her eyes, her lips swollen from kissing, her skin flushed and her mouth panting slightly; she's never looked more beautiful to me. I lean down and kiss her sweetly on the mouth again before kissing my way down to her left breast. I circle the nipple with my tongue softly, then more firmly before sucking it gently into my mouth. I can feel the warmth from her core radiating up against me. She twists her fingers into my hair as her back arches up off of the blanket and she gasps out my name.

"Peeta, that feels so good," she rasps, her eyes rolling back in pleasure. After giving her other breast the same attention I kiss my way down her chest and abdomen to her undershorts. I slide my fingers underneath the waistband and look back up at her, silently asking her permission. She nods and smiles gently, raising her hips up so I can wiggle them off. They quickly join her tank top off to the side. She is now completely naked in front of me for the first time, and my eyes trail up and down her body with awe.

I can see her start to shiver again as the cool breeze washes over us so I quickly lower my body back down to hers to help her warm up a little. She jumps slightly as my hips touch hers as I'm still wearing my damp boxers. 

"I need to take my shorts off now, is that okay?" She nods, so I quickly sit up and pull them off, tossing them into the pile with her wet clothes. She pulls me back down quickly and starts rubbing her hands up and down my back, continuing to thrust her hips up into me. I can feel how warm she is and I feel that same heat coursing through my body. That's me she's responding to. I'm making her feel these same things that I'm feeling and she's chanting my name. I lay my head down on top of her for a minute to catch my breath, feeling her underneath me and her hands grazing my back and shoulders.

"Katniss?" I whisper, raising my head up to look into her beautiful silver eyes. "Is this real?"

She lifts her head slightly to meet my lips and puts her arms around my neck. "It's real Peeta," she breathes out. "I love you, and this is real."

My heart is threatening to thump out of my chest hearing her say those words to me. My head drops back onto her shoulder as I try to keep my muscles from turning to mush. The fire growing between us feels like it's ready to consume us both.

All of a sudden I can't feel enough of her. I need to kiss and touch every part of her that I can and I have to do it right now. "Katniss," I whisper frantically into her ear in between lavishing her neck and face with my mouth. "I'm going to get you to finish with my fingers again to try to help you get ready for me, is that okay?"

I know that the first time is usually painful for girls, and I want to do whatever I can to help make our first time as comfortable for her as possible. She nods her head and threads her hands into my hair. I shift off to her side and start trailing my fingertips on her body, starting at her neck and moving down her side to her hips, bringing them across her pelvis and back up her other side. I repeat the same pattern and can feel her breath hitching as I dip my fingers closer and closer to her center with each pass. Her hands in my hair tug harder as my fingers start ghosting over the outside of her thighs, slowly making their way in until they just barely graze between her legs.

After a couple of minutes Katniss apparently grows tired of my teasing and bucks up into my hand, making us both groan loudly. "You're so wet Katniss, so wet for me," I say, my voice husky.

"Touch me Peeta, please!" she replies, sounding almost like she's in pain. I bring my lips down hard onto hers and meet her tongue with mine as my fingers find her dripping center. She is soaking wet and moans against my mouth as I start to move my fingertips through her slick folds, spreading her arousal. Her breath hitches as I gently push one finger in as my thumb finds her swollen and sensitive bundle of nerves and brushes against it gently.

"Aahh! Peeta! Please don't stop!" she gasps, still trying to keep her lips against mine but breathing harder and harder.

"You're almost there, Katniss," I whisper as I slip a second finger inside her, increasing the pace of my thumb. She's so close, chanting my name like a prayer, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Peeta!!" she screams as her climax washes over her, moving her hands down to my neck and clinging to me as if for dear life. I groan just as loudly; the sight of Katniss coming apart in my hands almost overwhelming for me as I thrust my hard cock against her leg.

"Are you ready, love?" I whisper, planting wet kisses on her jaw and neck. Katniss nods, still coming down from her high and seemingly incapable of speech.

I gently shift back between her legs, aligning my rigid cock up with her sopping entrance. Her hands are back fisted into my hair and her beautiful skin is glistening in the late-afternoon sunlight coming through the trees. She nods again and tugs gently on my hair. "I'm ready Peeta."

"Okay," I pant out, again feeling like my heart was going to burst out of my chest. I bring one of her legs up and wrap it around my waist as she tugs on my hair. I try to go as slowly as possible. The sensation as I enter her is unlike anything I have felt before. I can feel her stretching in front of me and she's so warm and tight. I continue to push in until I feel her virginal barrier at my tip and I almost come right then and there. She is mine, all mine, and I'm the only one who will ever have her. It's almost too much for me to process so I still completely and take a couple of deep, shuddering breaths, trying to compose myself.

"Katniss," I finally rasp, "I need to push all the way in now. It may hurt a bit..." my voice trails off as she pulls my head down for a deep, passionate kiss.

"It's okay," she replies against my lips. "Just do it."

Steeling myself, I inhale and thrust forward, sheathing myself completely inside her and causing us both to cry out. I'm so close to the edge already. I look up at her face and see that her eyes are squeezed shut. A single tear escapes down her cheek.

"I'm so sorry Katniss! I'm so sorry I hurt you!" I whisper into her ear. She brings her hands down to my shoulders and hugs me to her, thrusting her hips gently up.

"It's okay, I'm okay," she murmurs, thrusting up again against me. I'm dangerously close already so I grab her right hip and still her movements.

"Don't move yet, I'm so close already and I want to last a little longer for you," I tell her, leaning back in for another fiery kiss. She nods under my lips, keeping her hands around my neck.

After a few seconds I lift my head to whisper into her ear. "When you're ready, bring your other leg up around my waist, okay?"

She nods again, thrusting up lightly a couple of times before lifting her leg and crossing her ankles behind me. The change in angle is good, so very very good. I pull out a little and thrust back in, gently at first, then gaining speed as her gasps and moans become louder and louder. It's all too much and I can feel my release coming quickly. Katniss is chanting my name like a prayer but I can barely hear her.

"Katniss, I'm sorry! I'm going to come!" I growl. My thrusts become more erratic until I finally go rigid above her as my climax overcomes me and I spill deeply inside her. I collapse on top of her, trying to get my breathing back under control, still overwhelmed with all the sensations coursing though me and trying to let my mind catch up with my body. I can feel Katniss running her hands gently up and down my back and hear her whispering in my ear.

"I love you, I love you, I love you."

After a few minutes I finally feel like I'm able to move again and I raise my head to look into her beautiful eyes. "Are you okay?" I ask, gently caressing her cheek. "I didn't hurt you too much, did I?"

Katniss looks at me with the softest smile on her face, her eyes shining. "Don't worry, I'm okay," she whispers. She tugs on my neck so she can kiss me, first on my lips then across my cheek to my ear. "I've been told that it doesn't hurt again after the first time...".

I lift my head to look at her. "So we can do that again sometime?" I ask, a little too eagerly probably, but I don't care.

Katniss laughs, her eyes sparkling and leans up to kiss me again. "Yes, I think so."

As I pepper her face with more kisses the wind decides to start blowing a little harder, making us both shiver. "We should get going now," Katniss says, sighing. "We have a long walk ahead of us and it's getting late."

Reluctantly, I pull away from her body and immediately cover her with the blanket while I dress quickly, forgoing my still-wet underwear. Katniss then does the same while I pack up our picnic supplies and my sketchbook into the rucksack.

Our walk home takes a little longer than the walk to the lake as we can't seem to keep our hands off each other. As we finally approach the fence and slide underneath, still giggling and kissing and touching, Katniss suddenly stops short.

Gale is standing there, right in front of us.


	24. A Talk with Gale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gale.

KPOV

Peeta and I stop short, still clinging to each other's hands, the sounds of our laughter fading away. Gale looks down at us and frowns, his full game bag slung over his shoulder.

"Hey Catnip," he says. "I haven't seen you for a while."

My face matches his frown. "I've been by your house at least a couple of times a week, dropping game off to Hazelle and the kids," I say evenly. "You're never there."

Gale frowns even deeper. "Well, some of us still have to work for a living," he snaps. "Some of us don't have all the free time that others do."

That gets Peeta angry. "Now just a minute Gale-" he starts, but Gale cuts him off immediately.

"Don't you talk to me. I have nothing to say to you," he says, his eyes flashing furiously.

"Don't you talk to Peeta like that!" I say hotly, my temper close to being lost. "You have no idea, really no idea what we went through, so you are in no place to judge us."

"I watched it on TV, Katniss! I know what happened!" Gale says, his eyes still on Peeta.

"Yes, but seeing it and living through it are two completely different things," Peeta says, firmly but evenly, trying to keep his temper in check. "No one who wasn't physically in that arena with us can understand it, got it? So you can drop the anger routine and just tell us why you're hanging around here like you were waiting for us."

Gale looks down at the ground, scuffing the grass with his foot. "I was waiting to run into Catnip," he mumbles, still sneering at Peeta. "I didn't expect you to be coming out of the forest. As far as I know, you think the forest is filled with scary monsters like the rest of the Townies."

I can feel Peeta clenching and unclenching his fists next to me so I step between him and Gale.

"What did you need, Gale?" I ask, looking up at him and trying not to sound angry.

"I'd like to speak with you alone," he says, still looking at Peeta with disdain in his eyes.

I step back towards Peeta and take his hand. "Anything you want to say to me, you can say in front of Peeta." I'm not going to disrespect my husband by being alone with Gale right now, even if we're outside.

Gale exhales loudly, obviously not wanting to say what's on his mind in front of Peeta. He stares at me for a minute, probably hoping I'll change my mind. When it's apparent that isn't going to happen he sighs again, his shoulders dropping.

"Fine then. I'm going to just have to pretend he isn't here," he says, shooting Peeta a dark look. I feel Peeta's fingers tighten around my hand and see his shoulders stiffen.

"You don't have to be mean, Gale," I start out. "You used to be my friend, what happened?"

"He happened!" Gale snaps, again looking at Peeta, his attempt to forget that Peeta was standing here with me failing miserably. "He came along and did something to you and took you away from me!"

I sigh. This is a conversation I was hoping to avoid for a while still. "Gale," I say, trying to sound gentle. "You never had me. I didn't feel for you any more than as a friend, and I thought you felt the same about me. We were hunting partners, helping to support our families the only way we could. We were a good team, but that's it. I don't feel that way about you and I never will."

Gale looks down at me and I can see tears forming in his grey eyes, eyes so similar to my own. "How do you know?" he chokes out. "You never tried. You always told me you never wanted to fall in love or get married. What was I supposed to do? And why'd it have to be him?" He points angrily at Peeta again. "He's a Townie, and his brother's an ass!"

I can feel Peeta take a step forward and I put my hand on his chest to stop him. "Peeta's not his brother, and you don't know him, or his brother really if you think that. Their lives growing up weren't really all that much better than ours."

Gale gapes at me in disbelief. "There's no way I can believe that," he spits out. "They've never been on the brink of starving to death, they're always surrounded by food!"

"Food they could never eat!" I practically yell. "They couldn't eat anything they made, until it was old and stale and unsellable. Can you imagine how hard it would be to be surrounded by freshly baked goods and not be able to touch any of them? It's like Rue in District 11, who had to pick all the wonderful fruits they grow there all day long but could never eat them. It's a special kind of torture that we can't understand."

Gale blinks but doesn't say anything. "And Peeta and I knew each other before the Games. We've been connected in a way that no one but us can understand since I was 11, before I started hunting with you."

"You never told me any of this," Gale says, looking down at his shoes.

"Well, to be honest, we never really talked that much about how my life was before I started hunting. And how I was I supposed to know how you felt. You were always chasing other girls and talking about some stupid guy in your class that you hated... that was Peeta's brother, wasn't it? Why do you hate him so much?"

"That's none of your business!" Gale snaps.

"Well, see, there you go!" I say, exasperated. "You just assume too much. You see someone with blond hair and you assume that their life is perfect, without really getting to know them. You spend five years hunting with me and you assume you know everything about me, when really you don't know that much because you never really talked to me! And then you watch the Hunger Games on TV and assume you know what it's like to actually be in there, and there's no possible way that you can!"

Gale stares, his jaw clenched and his breathing heavy. "But it still doesn't make sense to me. You said you would never fall in love, and I guess I can understand why you would act like you did in the arena, but you're home now, Catnip. You're home now and you don't have to keep up the act anymore."

"It's not an act!" I exclaim in frustration. "It never was! It may have looked that way in the beginning, but that changed pretty fast!" I take a couple of deep breaths trying to calm down. "Peeta and I love each other, Gale. We are in love. I never meant to fall in love, it just happened, and I even tried to fight it at first. But we are happy together, and we want our friends to be happy for us."

Gale stares at us again for a minute, his eyes flicking back and forth between Peeta and me. I can see his eyes narrowing, like he's trying to think of a new argument. "There are rumors going around that you're pretty much living at his house," he finally says. "Are you sure your father would've approved of that?"

I feel Peeta put his arm around my shoulders. "Her father would approve, Gale, because Katniss is my wife now," he says proudly. "We only spent one night together at my house before we were married, so yes, I think her father would approve." Peeta takes my left hand and extends it, showing Gale my wedding ring.

I see Gale's eyes widen in shock as he stares at the ring and he actually stumbles backwards a bit. He definitely wasn't expecting to hear this. "You did what?!" he shouts, finding his voice again. "You married him? Already? You just got home a couple months ago!! And you're still only 16, you need your parent's approval!"

"Peeta's father and my mother both signed our marriage certificate. And Peeta turns 17 soon, and the Games have a way of making you grow up pretty fast," I say somberly. "And we didn't see the need to wait any longer. Neither of us could get any sleep apart from each other, the nightmares were just too bad. And it was pretty much my idea anyway."

Once again Gale gapes at me in disbelief. "You never wanted to get married," he whispers.

"I changed my mind," I say, smiling. "Peeta changed my mind." I feel Peeta squeeze my shoulders. "Peeta and I would like you to stay our friend, Gale. We're both trying to keep to some of our old routines, it helps us process through the trauma that we went through. I'd like to still hunt with you when you're available, but I will only do that if Peeta and I both feel like we can trust you."

Gale takes a deep breath, his shoulders drooping a little. "Of course you can trust me, Catnip," he says. "I'd never do anything to hurt you. And I'll kill you if you ever do anything to hurt her," he says, as he grabs Peeta's shirt collar and points his finger right in Peeta's face.

Peeta nods, his blue eyes flashing angrily. "I understand," he says firmly, carefully and slowly removing Gale's hands off of him and straightening his shirt. "But you won't have to worry about that. Ever."

Gale stands there looking at us for another minute, still trying to process everything that's been said. "We want you to be a part of our lives, Gale," I jump in. "I think you and Peeta could become friends, if you could let go of some of your misconceptions about him."

Gale gives me a skeptical look but doesn't respond right away. "I'll have to think about that," he finally says, looking back down at the ground. "I should be getting home now."

I nod. "Please tell Hazelle and the kids hello from us." Gale just nods as he walks away. I sigh in frustration. Leave it to Gale to suck all of the joy from our amazing afternoon.

"C'mon Katniss, let's get home," Peeta says softly, taking my hand and leading me across the Meadow towards Victor's Village.

The sun has completely set by the time we make it into our house. Peeta surprises me by dropping the rucksack on the floor as soon as we walk through the door and turning to me, wrapping me in his arms and looking at me intently. "You know I'd never do anything to hurt you, don't you?" he says. He almost looks scared.

I bring my hand up to his cheek. "Of course I do!" I say teasingly, rubbing my thumb on his cheek in what I hope is a soothing motion. "Gale was just trying to intimidate you."

Peeta's expression doesn't change, if anything he looks even more frightened. "Hey," I say, a little quieter. "After what we shared today how could you possibly think I would think that?"

Peeta stares at me for a moment before pulling me closer to him. "I just love you so much Katniss, there's no way I can tell you how much." His voice is thick and throaty. "And the fact that anyone could think I could hurt you-".

"Shhh," I say, covering his mouth with my fingers. "Don't listen to Gale. He's obviously not thinking straight, and he's always been stubborn." I lean up to kiss him softly. "I love you." I cup his face with my hands. "And right now I don't want to think or talk about Gale anymore."

I can't get another word out because Peeta presses his lips to mine so strongly that I'm almost knocked over. He has to tighten his arms to hold me up. We stand there in the entryway, kissing, while the house completely darkens around us. Finally I pull back with my arms around his neck and look directly into his beautiful eyes, still shining through the darkness. "Peeta, take me upstairs."

I can barely make out the surprised smile on his face. "Are you sure? Aren't you hungry?"

I lean up to kiss him again. "Not too hungry," I say, kissing his chin and jaw.

Peeta doesn't waste any more time. He reaches down to grab my hips, picking me up as I lock my ankles around him. We make it up the stairs and into the bedroom and Peeta places me on our bed, hovering over me. Very slowly he lowers himself down on top of me, gently caressing my cheek with the back of his hand. "You have no idea, the effect you have on me," he whispers.

"Then show me. Please." And Peeta needs no more convincing as his mouth crushes mine.

This time there's none of the pain and awkwardness of our first time. I lose track of how many times Peeta makes me cry out his name in pleasure. I lose track of how many times the touch of his hands and his lips makes my body shudder and tingle. I lose track of how many promises are made and whispered words of love and adoration are said between us. Peeta even talks me into being on top for a while, which at first, being self-conscious, I try to refuse. But he persists. "Please Katniss. I want to see and touch more of you," he pleads, in between covering virtually every inch of my body with kisses, and I find it impossible to refuse him.

It's hours later before we finally collapse in exhaustion, the scents of our lovemaking filling the room. We don't even bother to find any of our clothes, Peeta just pulls the sheet up over our naked bodies and throws his arm around me. "Katniss," he whispers, already half asleep. "I love you."


	25. Haymitch's News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We haven't seen Haymitch in a while.

PPOV

Katniss and I are woken up by a pounding on the front door. Katniss scowls and squeezes closer to me, burying herself under the blankets while I try to ignore it, hoping it will go away. When the pounding continues, followed by a muffled, "I know you two are home, open up!" I sigh heavily and start to detach myself from her.

Sitting up to attach my prosthesis I notice first that I'm naked, which, remembering the reason for that, makes me smile. Second, the long walk to and from the lake yesterday, combined with the swimming and then our late-night sexual marathon have left my body pretty sore. I stretch a little to work out some of the kinks, then pull a pair of boxers on and grab a robe before clomping down the stairs.

"Coming!" I say, throwing open the door and having Haymitch practically fall through.

"Took you long enough!" he grumbles, picking himself up and straightening his shirt. It's the first time I've seen him in a clean shirt since our wedding. Apparently Hazelle's housekeeping duties don't extend to making sure Haymitch actually uses the laundry that she washes for him.

"What the hell is so important that you needed to wake us up early?" I say, running my hand through my hair and wishing I was still up in bed.

Haymitch scoffs. "Early? It's not early, it's after 9am, which is darn late for you and Sweetheart to still be sleeping. Last night must have wore you two out-" he stops when he sees my expression.

"What?!" I say, feeling the flush creep across my face. "What did you hear?"

"A lot, actually," he says, winking at me. "You guys always leave your windows open and you forget that I live right next door. It was better than Capitol porn there for a while. I swear, you've been married for over a month already and you're just now getting to that? You must have the patience of a saint!"

I grab his shoulders to cut him off. "Don't you say another word!" I say right in his face. "And if I ever hear you say anything like this in front of Katniss, I'll tell Ripper not to sell her liquor to you anymore!"

"All right Boy, don't get so worked up," he says, going over to the table and sitting down. "But I need to talk to the both of you, so you may want to go and get Sweetheart."

"All right, give us a couple minutes," I say, heading back for the stairs. "Help yourself to some bread while you wait," I call out over my shoulder. Haymitch nods and moves into the kitchen.

Back up in the bedroom Katniss has obviously figured out who our visitor is, as she's fully dressed and braiding her hair. "What's Haymitch want?" she asks, sounding petulant. I'm feeling rather petulant myself. This wasn't how I'd wanted to wake up this morning.

"I don't know," I tell her, grabbing some lounge pants and a t-shirt and throwing them on. I'll have to shower later I guess.

Haymitch is finishing some bread with strawberry jam when we come back down the stairs. Remembering that we never ate dinner last night, I quickly cut a couple of slices of bread for Katniss and me before sitting back down at the table.

"All right Haymitch, what's going on?" I ask him, taking a big bite of my bread and reaching for Katniss's hand.

Haymitch swallows and sips from his flask before answering. "I got a letter from Effie yesterday," he says, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "She says that the Victory Tour dates have been moved up to the end of November. Your prep teams will be arriving here the morning of November 26th and the train will depart for the districts that afternoon."

"That's the day after Peeta's birthday," Katniss blurts out. "Why have they moved it up? I thought the Victory Tour was always in January?"

"Effie didn't say in the letter exactly why the dates have been changed, but I have a feeling that things aren't exactly hunky-dory in the districts right now." He turns to look directly at Katniss. "You don't know this, but after your little funeral in the arena for your friend from District 11, there was, shall we say, some unrest in that district. Seneca Crane, the head Gamemaker, was ready to arrange an accident for you in the arena before I was able to convince him otherwise. And then after the whole thing with the berries, well, let's just say that I doubt Mr. Crane will be still Head Gamemaker next time."

Immediately I feel Katniss's fingers tighten around my own. "So how does moving the Victory Tour help with unrest in District 11?" I ask incredulously. "They have to know that Katniss never meant to-"

Haymitch raises his hand to cut me off. "The Capitol doesn't care about your intentions, they only care about what's happening. And the fact of the matter is, what's happening right now is not to their liking and they need you two to fix it."

I gulp. "But how?" Katniss asks, finding her voice quicker than I can.

"They want to see their Star-Crossed lovers, acting like Star-Crossed lovers," Haymitch says, shrugging. "Although if you two keep up with what you were doing-"

"HAYMITCH!" I yell, staring him down. I can see Katniss out of the corner of my eye, staring at me with wide eyes. "Don't make me talk to Ripper!"

Haymitch brings his hands up in surrender. "Just razzing you Boy," he says, chuckling. "Anyway," he continues, sounding more serious. "That's all I know right now. I'll of course tell you if I hear anything more, but in the meantime be prepared to leave for the Tour on November 26th. Effie and I will of course be accompanying the two of you."

Katniss and I stare at our entwined hands for a moment. "Thank you for telling us, Haymitch," Katniss finally says. My mind is swirling with thoughts of Haymitch pleading with the Gamemaker to not kill Katniss in the arena. My stomach drops at the thought. That had been before the rule change was announced, while I was slowly dying down by the river. We'd both be dead now if Haymitch hadn't intervened.

"Yes, thank you Haymitch," I say, looking up at him. He nods, matching my somber expression. He knows exactly what I was thinking.

After I see Haymitch out I sit back down at the table, pulling Katniss to sit on my lap. I bury my face into her neck, feeling her arms around me and those little wispy hairs that never make it into her braid tickle my face.

I feel her kiss the top of my head. "Haymitch worked hard to bring us home," she says quietly. I just nod, too overwhelmed right now to speak.

Katniss kisses my head again. "I want you to rest your leg today," she says, changing the subject and jumping into caregiver mode. "You were on it a lot yesterday and you slept half the night with your prosthetic on. I took it off for you when I realized you still had it on." Hmm, that's why I didn't remember taking it off last night when Haymitch woke us up this morning.

I squeeze her tightly around her waist. "I love you," I say, my face still buried in her neck.

She tilts my head up so she can kiss my lips. "I love you too. Now move over to the couch and stretch out. I'm going to take care of you today."

I lean up for another kiss. "Yes, love."

Katniss hops off my lap and helps me to the couch before detaching my prosthesis and propping my leg up on a throw pillow. "I had my mom make you a new jar of cream while we were gone yesterday, so once we're done having breakfast I'm going to run over there and grab it and rub your leg for a while. Then we're going to take a nap, because," and she pauses to kiss me. "I know I'm still pretty tired, so I can imagine that you are too." She kisses me again and winks, and it takes all of my self control to not pull her down on top of me. She still has no idea...

After Katniss makes us a breakfast of fried eggs and some more bread with jam, she runs over retrieve the cream from her old house and spends the next half an hour massaging my aching stump before climbing into my arms and settling her head down on my chest.

"Why are you so good to me?" I whisper, running my thumb lightly over her shoulder.

I feel her tighten her arms around me. "Because I love you."

I'm awakened a couple hours later by the most wonderful sensation. Katniss is awake and running her hand gently across my thighs, up and down, and across my pelvic bone. It isn't long before I feel myself getting hard and I inhale sharply as her hand just grazes the top of the now-obvious bulge in my pants.

"What're doing?" I whisper, gasping as her hand passes over again.

Katniss doesn't answer, she just starts planting kisses under my jawline, moving her way up to my ear. "What do you think I'm doing?" she whispers, so softly I can barely hear her.

I shudder so hard I worry I've scared her, but she just keeps moving her hand back and forth until I feel her slender fingers move under the waistband of my pants and pull down. "I want to take these off of you," she whispers again, still kissing up and down the underside of my jaw.

"Okay," I say, my voice trembling. I lift my hips up off the couch as best I can as Katniss slides my pants down and pulls them off of my good foot. She resumes her hand motions, now running her fingers delicately over my erection. My breath is hitching now as she curls her fingers under the waistband of my boxers. "I want to take these off too."

"Uhh," is all I can get out. Katniss takes that as permission and straddles me, pulling my boxers gently up and over my rigid cock and pulling them down before I'm able to kick them off of my ankle. I can see her eyes widen and her mouth open as she looks at me.

"Oohh. I haven't gotten a good look at you in the daylight yet," she says, with that breathy tone in her voice that makes my heart leap.

I take a deep, shaky breath. "What do you think?" I remember Katniss when she was cleaning me up in the arena, how she refused to look at me then. Was that really just a few months ago?

"I think you're beautiful," she says, before wrapping her small hand loosely around my now throbbing cock and leaning down to kiss the tip, causing me to hiss and buck up against her hand. "Your skin is so soft, Peeta. It's so hard in my hand, but so soft and smooth at the same time." She tentatively starts to run her fingertips up and down the shaft, like she's afraid she'll hurt me.

"Let me show you," I rasp, taking her hand and wrapping her fingers completely around me and showing her how to move her hand up and down. "Don't be afraid to grip tighter," I say, trying to keep my eyes open. She grips a little tighter then and my head falls back. "Aahh, Katniss, that's it. Sometimes it helps to spit a little on your hand too, so it slides easier."

That causes her head to snap up and her eyes to narrow. "I'm not going to spit on any part of you," she says firmly. She pauses her movements as she thinks. "Hold on, I'll be right back."

 _There's no way in hell I'm moving anywhere right now,_ I think as I watch her jog to the downstairs bathroom, coming back with a palmful of the vanilla-scented hand cream that Effie put in there when I moved in. "Will this work?" she asks.

I can't help but smile. "Yeah, that should work," I say, reaching up to pull her towards me for a quick kiss.

"Stop distracting me," she teases, warming the cream between both of her hands before lying down on the couch next to me, her head back on my chest.

I jump a little as she grips me again, her hand now moving easily up and down the length of my cock. "Is that better?" she asks me in that breathy voice of hers.

"Oh God yes, Katniss, it feels wonderful," I gasp out. She continues to stroke me while placing soft kisses up and down my jaw, her feathery light touches pushing me close to the edge quickly. I squeeze my eyes shut. "Katniss, I'm getting close!" I manage to gasp out. "Go just a little faster!"

Her hand speeds up a little and that's all it takes. I barely manage to move my shirt out of the way before I come all over my stomach. Katniss finally stills her hand when I'm finished and rests her head on my shoulder. Once I'm able to regain my senses I reach my hand down and hug her to me. "What brought that on?" I ask, tilting her chin up so I can see her beautiful eyes.

She leans over to kiss me. "I just wanted to do that for you," she says, giving me one of her special smiles. "I wanted to watch you. Did I do okay?"

"Oh yeah," I exclaim, hugging her tightly again. "It was wonderful! You can do that again anytime."

Katniss sits up and pecks me lightly on my lips. "Good," she says, giving me that smile again. "Now I'm going to clean you up and make us lunch, then I thought we could work on the Plant Book for a while?"

I nod. "That sounds perfect."

After cleaning up the mess on my stomach with a towel, Katniss helps me back into my clothes and insists on me continuing to rest without my prosthetic on while she makes us lunch. After we eat on the couch together she pulls out the Plant Book, which occupies us for the rest of the afternoon. I try to protest a little, especially when she tells me that we've actually run out of bread, but she insists that I can bake again tomorrow.

"I want you well rested," she says. I'm about to ask for what when she adds, "for tonight."

Ohh. "Yes, love!" I say, with probably a stupid grin on my face.

After dinner Katniss makes a fire in the fireplace, since the evenings have now cooled down with the start of autumn. She piles the floor in front of it with pillows and blankets and helps me hobble over, cuddling up right next to me. I don't wait too long before pulling her on top of me.

"I feel like I haven't hardly touched you at all today," I say, trying to sound teasing rather than whiny. "You've been doing all the touching."

Katniss doesn't answer, just brings her face down to me until her lips touch mine. "I'm here now."

"Mmmm," I say against her lips, positioning us so she's sitting on my lap. "Yes you are."

I pull her shirt and pants off and tug my shirt over my head before I start to lavishly kiss her, working my way from her mouth and neck down to her collarbone and chest. I feel a bit awkward without my prosthetic on, but there's no way I'm going to pause and attach it now.

"Katniss," I whisper. I start running my fingertips along the inside of her thighs. "I want to kiss you, down here," and I run my fingers right over her damp but still-covered center, causing us both to moan loudly.

She looks at me with her grey eyes wide and shakes her head slightly. "I don't know, Peeta..."

"Please?" I say pleadingly, still planting kisses all over her shoulder and neck. "If you don't like it you just tell me and I'll stop right away."

She hesitates for a few more seconds before nodding her head. "Okay."

"Okay, go ahead and lie back for me," I whisper, helping her lay back against one of the pillows. Propping myself up on both of my forearms, I slowly pull her camisole up and over her head. Then I lean over her and kiss my way down to her breast, licking and sucking on her nipple before moving over to do the same on her other side. Katniss has her hands threaded into my hair and is making tiny little whimpering noises as I move down and position myself between her legs. I take a moment to run my fingers along the length of her inner thighs, trying to help her be as relaxed as possible while allowing me to look at her at the same time. Then I hook my fingers into the sides of her underwear and pull them slowly down, bringing my hands up to rest on her thighs.

"God Katniss, you're so, so beautiful," I whisper, kissing her lightly along her thigh and running my fingers slowly through her warm, wet folds. She inhales sharply as I touch her again.

"Just relax now, love," I whisper. She shudders as I gently kiss between her legs, quickly at first. No protest follows so I kiss her again, lingering a little longer this time and causing her to gasp. Finally I take my tongue and run it completely through from bottom to top, causing her to buck up and her thighs to squeeze around my head.

"Oh my Peeta!" she cries out, her hands now fisted in my hair. I lick her again and her head falls back onto the pillow.

"Is it okay, Katniss?" I ask, trying not to sound too eager.

"Yes, yes! Please don't stop!" she says, her back arching up off the blanket and her hands gently tugging on my hair.

She is absolutely exquisite, even better than my wildest teenage boy fantasies. I try to take my time, licking, kissing, and sucking gently before running my tongue right over her bundle of nerves. "Aahh!" Katniss cries out. "I'm so close Peeta!" I gently push two of my fingers inside her as my tongue makes another circle and I feel her tug on my hair as her thighs start trembling and her walls clench tightly around my fingers.

"Each night I think you can't get any more precious to me, and each night you manage to prove me wrong," I murmur once I've kissed my way back up to her lips.

Katniss is still breathing heavily and her limbs are heavy, but she manages to throw her arms around my neck anyway. "Hmmm," is the only reply she can give for a few minutes.

Abruptly she loosens her arms and puts her hands on my face, meeting my eyes. I can see tears shimmering in hers. "How do I deserve you?" she sobs out, one tear escaping and sliding down her cheek. "I hurt you after our first interviews before the Games, and then I thought you had betrayed me, and then I was rude to you while I was cleaning you up, and then you trusted me to not to miss Cato's hand at the end, and then you tried to bleed to death so I could live, and then I almost broke your heart on the train home, and then I made you wait over a month...". She starts crying in earnest now, tightening her arms around my neck and pulling me down on top of her. "You ask why I'm so good to you?! Why are you so good to me? I don't deserve you. You're too good for this world, Peeta."

"Now you stop right there," I say firmly, propping myself up on my forearms again with my hands cupping her face. "Listen to me. I. Love. You. I have always loved you. I will always love you. I'd have waited for you for as long as I needed to, because you're worth it to me. And I trust you completely, just like I did when I knew you wouldn't miss Cato's hand. And you, you deserve every bit of happiness that you can get and if I'm able to give you even a little of it, then that's what I want." I lean down to kiss the tear tracks left on her cheeks and then roll onto my back, pulling her to lie next to me. "No one has ever treated me like you do. No one has ever taken care of me like you have and no one could ever love me like you do. So please, for my sake, stop being so hard on yourself and let me show you how wonderful you are. Please."

She reaches up to cup my cheek, rubbing her thumb over my cheekbone, letting her tears finish falling. Then she kisses under each of my eyes before gently kissing my lips. "Okay."

I pull her towards me into a hug. "All right," I say, pulling back to kiss her forehead. "Now I think we should head upstairs and take a bath together, because I seem to remember that we didn't shower last night. And then," I pause to kiss her. "And then, I'm taking you to bed." I wink at her and she laughs, that beautiful soft laugh.

"Okay," she says. "That sounds perfect."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank all of you who have taken the time to read and leave reviews for me. I really appreciate the wonderful feedback! :)


	26. Peeta's Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's almost Tour time!

KPOV

The days and weeks start to fly by, almost like they are taunting us. The leaves on the trees change color and then drop to the ground. The animals in the forest start to hibernate. Snow begins to fall on occasion. Before we know it, it's only a couple of days before Peeta's birthday, and then the day after that, the Victory Tour.

Cinna starts calling our house to work on my talent for the Tour. Every Hunger Games Victor is supposed to have a talent, since we don't have to officially work or go to school anymore. Peeta of course has his painting, so he's easy. I, on the other hand, don't really have a talent, unless you count hunting illegally, which they probably don't. I can sing, but I only sing for people I love and I would never sing for the Capitol in a million years. Effie tries to give me other options, such as flower arranging and playing the flute. None of them worked out very well, although Prim ended up keeping the flute. Finally Cinna offered to help me design clothes, which ended up working out well for me because he did all the work.

November 25th dawns grey and very cold outside, with fresh snow having fallen overnight. Peeta is still asleep as I wriggle carefully out of his grip and tiptoe into the bathroom to get dressed, then head downstairs to warm up the cinnamon breakfast rolls I baked for him yesterday. Actually Rye mostly baked them, I only poured ingredients into the mixing bowl and pulled them out of the oven when they were done, but anyway. Peeta doesn't know that I sneaked out to the bakery yesterday instead of going hunting, and Rye was very sweet to help me with this surprise. We even made Peeta a cake, which I insisted upon when Rye told me that Peeta never had a birthday cake while growing up. It's nowhere near as pretty as the cakes Peeta makes, but it should at least taste okay later today. I've invited our families and Haymitch over for dinner too. Peeta doesn't know that yet either.

As the cinnamon rolls start to warm up and the delicious scent permeates the house, I look around and sigh. I really, really don't want to leave tomorrow for the Tour. The Victory Tour just reminds me of what Haymitch told us, about there being unrest in the districts because of what we did with the berries, and that the next Hunger Games is only six months away. These last few months I've managed to almost ignore the fact that Peeta and I will have to mentor in the next Hunger Games, but this past week the nightmares have started to appear. I can't walk through the Seam or past the school lately without wondering which unlucky kid I'll have to coach in the Games next summer. And, if it's not enough, the next Hunger Games will be the 75th, which means that it's also a Quarter Quell. Quarter Quells occur every 25 years, marking the anniversary of the districts' defeat with over-the-top celebrations along with some miserable twist for the tributes. Peeta and I haven't been alive for any of the previous ones, but I do know one of the Victors, since the tribute that won the 50th Hunger Games was Haymitch.

I check the oven again. The glaze is just starting to melt over the cinnamon rolls so I take them out and set them on the stove to cool while I finish making our hot chocolate. Balancing everything carefully on a tray, I head back upstairs to find Peeta still asleep, lying on his back with one arm up over his head and the other snaked underneath his pillow. He looks almost like a little boy when he's sleeping, so fresh-faced and innocent, but still with that fine layer of stubble on his jaw that's just a little more honey-toned than his hair. He's started to have a few nightmares too so I'm glad to see him sleeping peacefully for the moment. I place the tray on the dresser and sit down in the chair in the corner, just watching him for about five minutes before I can't take not being near him anymore and move back over to the bed.

Crawling up next to him, I gently start running my fingers through his hair and placing soft kisses on his forehead and cheeks. "It's time to wake up, Peeta," I whisper in his ear. "Happy Birthday."

His eyes, those eyes with the impossibly long eyelashes, flutter open and look at me, and his lips curve into that smile that gives me the shivers. "Hey beautiful girl," he says, his voice still sounding sleepy. "This is such a wonderful way to wake up." He reaches up and pulls my face down to kiss my lips. "Mmm, something smells really good!"

"I brought your breakfast up for you," I say, kissing him again before grabbing the tray and placing it between us on the bed.

Peeta's eyebrows move to hide under his tousled hair. "You baked me cinnamon rolls?!" he says, a look of awe on his face.

"I had help," I confess, handing him a plate and taking a bite out of my own roll. It's not too bad. Not as good as Peeta's of course, but not bad. "Rye helped me make them yesterday. I never quite made it into the forest-"

Peeta cuts me off with a hard, lingering kiss, and I can taste the cinnamon and chocolate on him. "They're perfect, Katniss. Thank you."

After breakfast Peeta goes to his studio to work on the paintings he will be presenting on the Tour and I head out to the forest to check the snare line one more time. There's a couple of smaller rabbits and one squirrel that I quickly skin and clean, and just as I'm aiming an arrow at a flock of geese I hear a twig snap behind me. Twirling around with my arrow pointed, I'm surprised to find Gale standing there looking shocked. I had forgotten that today was Sunday.

"Woah!" he says, holding his arms up defensively. "It's just me, Catnip."

I quickly lower my arrow as I mumble an apology. "I'm sorry. I'm a little extra jumpy today with the Tour starting tomorrow."

Gale looks at me skeptically. Even after the talk we had with him at the end of the summer and the few times that we've hunted together since then, he still doesn't quite get it. "When's the Tour leave?" he asks.

"Tomorrow morning," I reply. "And today is Peeta's birthday, so I'm out here trying to catch something for our dinner tonight. We're having our families over to celebrate. You and Hazelle and the kids should come too."

Gale frowns at the suggestion. "I don't think so, Catnip. Peeta may be a halfway decent guy, but I still don't think I can hang around with his brother."

My eyes widen in shock. Hearing Gale finally acknowledge that Peeta is anything besides the Townie who stole me away is definitely a first for him. "Rye's not a bad guy either, Gale," I say, looking at him straight in the eye. "He's actually really sweet, almost as sweet as Peeta. If you got to know him a little-"

"No thanks, Catnip," Gale interrupts. "I appreciate the invitation, but no."

I sigh. "Fine. Then go ahead and take these," I say, giving him the squirrel and the two rabbits. "I've reset all the snares for you."

Gale hesitates before taking the game, still wary about accepting my help. "Thanks," he finally says. We stare at each other for a minute before he continues. "Be careful on the Tour, Catnip. Make sure Baker Boy takes good care of you."

I wince at him calling Peeta 'Baker Boy', but I let it pass without pointing it out. "He will," I say firmly. "You don't need to worry about me."

Gale nods and walks away, his footfalls disappearing into the forest, no doubt in search of something more substantial than a couple of small rabbits. With winter here the pickings are getting slim.

Thankfully the geese haven't flown away yet and I quickly shoot and clean three of them, hoping they'll be enough for everyone who will be coming for dinner tonight. I was going to have my mother roast two of them at my old house while I took care of the third, maintaining the surprise for Peeta. I've asked everyone who is coming tonight to meet at my old house first and then come over to ours together.

After dropping the two birds off with my mother and Prim I head back over to our house to start preparing the third. Peeta is in the kitchen when I get home, several loaves of bread strewn about in various stages of preparation. "I thought I could bring most of these to the Hob later today," he says. "Since we're going to be gone I won't be able to do any deliveries for a while."

I nod. We've both been trying with winter here to keep as much food flowing through the Hob as we can. Even though the monthly parcels are still arriving from the Capitol, there's never enough food for everyone in District 12 during the winters.

"I got a goose for our dinner tonight," I tell him as I move into the kitchen, searching around for the roasting pan.

"Oh that sounds yummy," he replies, before wiping his hands on his apron and grabbing me around my waist.

"Peeta!" I exclaim. "I need to get this in the oven or it won't be done on time!"

"What's the rush?" he says teasingly, leaning down to kiss me. "It's my birthday, so you should let me do what I want today."

"And I will," I say, emphasizing each word with a kiss. "As soon as I get this in the oven." Then I duck under his arms and push him away playfully.

"You're making me wait!" he says with a pout, but goes back to his baking.

After I'm done prepping and seasoning the goose and set the timer for the oven, I turn around to look for Peeta and walk right into his bare chest. "Oh!" is all I can get out before his lips descend onto mine with a crushing force.

"I'm done waiting," he whispers, peppering my neck and jaw with kisses before moving back up to my mouth. "Come back upstairs with me, I want you right now."

We spend most of the afternoon in bed, alternately making love and napping, the room still scented with cinnamon and chocolate from our breakfast. It's only the sound of the oven timer that finally rouses us. "C'mon Peeta," I say, trying to cajole him out of bed. "You should run to the Hob quick while I get the rest of the dinner ready."

After Peeta dresses and I practically shove him out the door, I wait a few minutes and head over to my old house, where my mother and Prim are finishing up the rest of the dinner. Rye and Madge are already there along with Bannock and Casey. "Dad said he'd just be a few more minutes," Rye tells me.

"Is your mom coming too?" I ask warily. As much as I really don't want her there, it is her son's birthday after all.

Rye looks down. "No, she said that she has a headache and was going to bed early," he says, sounding guilty and rolling his eyes.

I sigh. "Oh well, it's her loss," I say, shrugging. Just then there's a knock on the door. Rye goes to answer it and returns with a smiling Mr. Mellark, carrying a covered basket full of dinner rolls.

"It's starting to rain," he says, running his hand through his hair. I can't help but smile at how similar Peeta is to him.

"Let's get all of this over to our house," I say, directing Bannock to help with the roasting pans and Rye to carry the cake that we made. "I don't think Peeta suspects anything," I say to Rye, barely able to contain my excitement. I can't wait for him to see his surprise party. Hopefully it will help both of us take our minds off the Tour starting tomorrow, at least for a little while.

Everyone, including Haymitch, who lazily just walked over here when he saw the rest of us, is waiting in the kitchen when Peeta returns from his trip to the Hob, his coat and hair sprinkled with the rain that's started to fall. The stunned look on his face when he sees the kitchen filled with people is priceless. "What's this for?" he asks, grabbing me around the waist and pecking me on the cheek.

"Happy Birthday," I tell him. "I asked our families to celebrate with us tonight, I hope that's okay."

"Yeah!" he says, looking at everyone in awe. "I've never had a birthday party before," he adds quietly, so only I can hear him.

"Well, then it's about time you had one," I whisper back. "Now let's eat, I'm hungry!"

It is such a wonderful evening it almost does make us forget about the Tour leaving tomorrow. Haymitch has us all roaring with laughter with stories of him and our parents from when they were kids. Prim brags about how she's taught all the younger Hawthorne kids how to play chess since Peeta taught her, earning her a huge smile from Mr. Mellark. Madge admits that the real reason that she used to drag me to the wrestling matches at school was so that she could watch Rye wrestle, which makes Rye blush so hard that his ears turn pink and causes his two brothers to tease him mercilessly for a few minutes. And Rye and Bannock throw in stories of how they used to tease Peeta about me when they were younger.

"Every Friday night Peet would insist that he was going to talk to you the next morning when you came by to trade," Rye says, looking mischievous. "And every Saturday morning when you'd finally show up, he'd take one look at that Hawthorne guy and clam up and hide again, and Ban and I would spend the rest of the day teasing him about it."

"You'd spend the rest of the day teasing him about it," Bannock corrects him in his deep voice, glancing sheepishly at his wife. "I would just watch," he adds, winking and leaning over to ruffle Peeta's hair.

"Yeah, well, at least he got her, finally," Rye adds.

Peeta reaches for my hand. "Yes I did," he says proudly.

Once everyone is finished eating, I get up to fetch the cake that Rye and I made for Peeta. I had Rye frost it in green and I wrote "Happy Birthday Peeta," on the top in orange letters. I even counted out seventeen tiny candles. Peeta's eyes tear up when he sees it.

"You made me a cake too?" he says, his voice thick.

"Rye helped me-" I start to say before Rye cuts in.

"It was all her idea," he says. "She even asked me to put some dandelions on it, but all I know how to do are roses, so I couldn't. You're the artistic one, little brother, not me."

Peeta insists that I cut the cake for him, and after everyone is served a piece people start to filter out. Prim has school tomorrow, so she and my mother leave first. "I'll be over tomorrow to say goodbye before we leave," I remind them, before kissing them both and thanking them for their help.

The Mellarks are next; both Rye and Mr. Mellark have to open the bakery tomorrow so they have to be up very early, and Bannock has the early shift at the General Store tomorrow. Madge goes with them, and Haymitch takes that as his cue to leave as well.

"Don't forget, I live right next door," he says, winking at Peeta.

"Shut up, Haymitch," Peeta replies, pushing him out the door. "We'll see you tomorrow."

I get the dishes done in record time, insisting that Peeta take the time to continue organizing his paintings for tomorrow. Then I head upstairs to our room and pull out the huge box that I'd hidden in the back of the closet and heave it up onto the bed.

"You got me a present too?" Peeta says from the doorway, surprising me.

I smile and reach for him. "Open it."

I know nothing about art, other than I think Peeta is the most talented artist I've ever seen, so I enlisted the help of Cinna and Portia and had them send me some things for Peeta. The huge box that they shipped to us from the Capitol contains a variety of new paintbrushes and canvases, some replacement paints for colors he was running low on and a bunch of new colors, a couple of books written by some famous art teacher from the Capitol, and a subscription to a monthly painting magazine.

Peeta doesn't try to hide the tears this time. "You did all of this for me?" he says, nearly breaking my heart with how surprised he sounds.

"Of course I did," I reply, wrapping my arms around him. "I hope you like everything, I didn't know really what to get so Cinna helped me."

Peeta picks up one of the books, flipping through it quickly before running his hands over the paintbrushes. "It's all perfect, Katniss," he says, his voice quavering. "Just like you. You have no idea, I've never had a birthday like this."

"It's not over yet," I say, winking at him. Peeta looks surprised while I move the box over by the dresser. Then I crawl back onto the bed and over to whisper into his ear. "Lie back on your pillow for me."

Peeta nods, his eyes wide as he slides back and lays down. His eyes follow me intently as I first remove his shoes and socks, then start undoing his belt and the button on his pants. I shoo his hands away as he tries to help me. "Just let me do this for you," I tell him. I get his pants unbuttoned and slide them down, throwing them onto the floor. I then release his prosthetic and place it in its stand by the bed, and finally, carefully remove his boxers and the t-shirt he's wearing. As I reach across him to the nightstand for his leg cream he stops me.

"Please, can you take your clothes off too?" he asks softly. "I want to look at you."

"Okay," I whisper, shrugging out of my clothes before warming up some of the cream in my hands. Peeta hisses as I start massaging his stump, his cock already half-hard. I lean down to kiss it, still massaging his leg, and Peeta gasps, his hands fumbling for the tie at the end of my braid. His hands work through my hair as I massage his leg, leaning down to kiss his now rigid cock every few seconds. Grabbing the towel I'd placed on the nightstand, I wipe my hands quickly before wrapping one hand completely around his cock and leaning down to take the top of it into my mouth.

"Katniss!" Peeta cries out in surprise. I've helped him with my hands several times now, but I've been saving this for his birthday. I feel his hands gather my hair up so it doesn't get in the way as move my mouth down, taking as much of him in as I can, wrapping my hand around the bottom where my mouth can't reach.

Peeta starts moaning, quietly at first, then louder and more gravelly as I keep moving, alternating between running my tongue along his entire length and taking him into my mouth. I glance up at him a couple times and the sight is breathtaking. His eyes are looking at me intently, filled with love and desire, his pupils so dilated I can barely make out the blue. One of his hands is still tangled in my hair, gently rubbing my scalp, while the other is softly running up and down my bare back.

Peeta starts moving his hips gently, his moans getting louder. "Katniss," he gasps out. "Love, I'm getting close!"

I know he's trying to warn me, but I pointedly ignore his warning. I speed up my mouth until I hear him cry out, bucking his hips as a rope of hot liquid hits the back of my mouth. I pause a minute to swallow, slowly licking him up and down before releasing him with a soft popping noise and laying my head down on his stomach.

We lay there for a few minutes with only the sounds of Peeta's breathing filling the room. Finally his hands move to my shoulders, tugging gently. "Come here," he rasps, covering my mouth with his as soon as I get close enough.

"Happy Birthday, Peeta," I whisper against his lips. He wraps his arms around me and flips us so he's on top of me. He pulls back a little to look into my eyes.

"This is the best birthday I've ever had," he whispers, caressing my cheek.

"I'm so glad," I whisper back, barely getting all the words out before his warm lips come back down to claim mine.


	27. An Important Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Tour has begun!

PPOV

The sound of someone knocking on our front door rouses both Katniss and me. Bleary-eyed, we both pull on robes before Katniss runs down to answer the door. I'm still sitting on the bed attaching my prosthetic leg when she comes back up the stairs.

"The train has arrived," she says. "Cinna ran ahead of everyone else, and he says I should get prepped at my old house since the prep team doesn't know about our wedding yet."  She starts pulling on some casual clothes and runs her brush through her hair.

"All right," I say, sighing heavily. I'm happy that Cinna thought to do that, but I really don't want to be away from Katniss at all today. And her prep takes twice as long as mine does for some reason, so that just means I'll be wandering around the house by myself for a while.

I finish attaching my leg and stand up to give her a hug. "I'll miss you," I say, realizing that it probably sounds silly, but I don't really care.

Katniss leans up to kiss me. "I'll miss you too."

After throwing on some clothes I decide to go to my studio and double-check the paintings I'm planning to bring to display on the Tour. I've lost track of how long I've been organizing and doing touch-ups when I hear Effie calling me from downstairs. She must have just let herself in. Grumbling, I get heavily to my feet and wander into the hallway.

"What is it, Effie?" I call down, not wanting to walk all the way downstairs unless absolutely necessary since I know I'll be on my feet a lot in the next couple of weeks, and my left hip has been bothering me a bit lately.

"There's someone important here to see you, Peeta," Effie replies, her voice sounding even more pinched and higher pitched than usual.

Who on earth could be important enough to rattle Effie, I wonder as I climb down the stairs. Then I see the man standing behind her in the kitchen doorway. One look at his tailored suit and surgically perfected features and I know he's from the Capitol. Something is wrong. "I was just upstairs, painting," I say, as if an explanation was needed.

"This way please, Mr. Mellark," says the man, gesturing down the hallway. It's strange to be escorted around my own home, but something tells me to keep that thought to myself.

It's probably just more instructions for the Tour, protocols for the different districts, or maybe even an interviewer wanting me to answer a couple of questions before we leave. Why does Effie look so worried?

"Go right in," says the Capitol man, who has followed me down the hallway to the spare bedroom/ study.

I twist the polished brass doorknob and step inside. Immediately my nose registers the conflicting scents of blood and roses. A small, white-haired man who seems vaguely familiar is reading a book. He holds up a finger as if to say, "give me a moment." Then he turns to face me and my heart skips a beat.

"President Snow," I say, trying to keep my voice even. Inside my mind is spinning. What is he doing here? I've never heard of the President personally visiting any of the other Victors before the start of their Victory Tour before. If he's traveled all the way out here, to District 12 of all places, then something must be very wrong.

I think of Katniss and I start to panic. She blatantly defies the Capitol's laws every time she sets foot into the woods. But then again, President Snow has to know about Katniss's hunting already. How else could a girl from District 12 learn how to shoot a bow and arrow?

"It's an honor to see you again, sir," I say, my voice flat. It's a flat-out lie and we both know it.

The President smiles. "I think it will make this whole situation a lot simpler if we just agree not to lie to each other," he says. "What do you think, Mr. Mellark?

I surprise myself with how steady my voice is. "Yes, I think that would save time." He smiles again and indicates that we should sit down.

"I have a problem, Mr. Mellark," he begins. "A problem that began the moment that Miss Everdeen pulled out those poisonous berries in the arena." I stiffen at the mention of Katniss's name.

"If the Head Gamemaker, Seneca Crane, had had any brains, he'd have blown her to bits right then. But he had an unfortunate sentimental streak. So here you both are. Can you guess where he is?" I nod grimly, reeling over the thought of Katniss getting blown to bits. Haymitch was right. Mr. Crane won't be the Head Gamemaker next time.

"After that, there was nothing to do but to let the two of you play out your little scenario with the teenaged love-crazed bit. The people in the Capitol were quite convinced. Unfortunately, not everyone in the districts fell for it."

Confusion flashes across my face. "Fell for what? Katniss and I are in love, it's not an act." Snow glowers at me, his eyes narrowing.

"In several of the districts, people viewed your little stunt with the berries as an act of defiance, not as an act of love," he snarls, his voice raising heatedly. "And if two people from District 12, of all places, can defy the Capitol and get away with it, what is to stop them from doing the same? What is to prevent, say, an uprising, which can lead to war?"

Uprisings? Wars? It takes a moment for his last sentence to kick in. Does he really think that we are personally responsible for any discontent present in the districts?

"Katniss doesn't want any uprisings. She doesn't want a war, and neither do I," I say, my voice hard. "We just want to be left alone. We're happy together and we just want to be left alone."

"And what about her family," he says. "Her mother and sister? That cousin of hers and his family? Do they just want to be left alone also? What about your family? You know, accidents are very easy to arrange...". Cousin? Who's her cousin?

Just then there's a knock on the door, and Effie comes in, balancing a tray of cookies and cups of tea. President Snow thanks her and waves her out of the room quickly.

"You just want to be left alone," he repeats, after taking a sip from one of the teacups. "That very well may be, but right now the districts need to be placated, and you and Miss Everdeen need to placate them," he says, taking a bite out of one of the cookies. "This is lovely, did you make this?"

I blink and nod, too stunned to answer at first. "How?" I ask, finally finding my voice again.

President Snow thinks for a minute. "You know, people see me as a symbol of power and formality," he says, "which means I can't always reach people in the way that a friend can. You can be that friend. You and Katniss, the baker's son and the miner's daughter. People think they can relate to you, let them relate to you. Show the districts how thankful you are to the Capitol for allowing you both to win. Show them how you were both so in love that you were each willing to die for the other."

"Are in love," I interrupt. President Snow looks at me, his eyes narrowing. "We are in love, there's no 'were' about it."

"Very well," he says. "Make sure they're convinced of your sincerity, of your thanks. No, actually, make sure I'm convinced," he says, and leans back into the chair, taking another bite of his cookie.

I take a deep breath. "So, you're asking us to be what, sir, your voice of reason?"

The smile I get in response makes my blood run cold. "You've understood everything but one small detail," he says. "I'm not asking."

Then he rises, dabs at his puffy lips with a napkin, and leans down to whisper in my ear. "By the way, I know about your little secret marriage. Did you really think we would allow two Victors to get married in private? Did you honestly think that your lives were your own? Your lives belong to me now, so you had better be on your best behavior from here on out because I am always listening. And watching."

And he stands up, straightens his suit jacket, and walks out of the room.

I'm left sitting there, stunned. The smell of blood, it was on his breath, like he was sipping it out of his teacup instead of tea. The room seems to be spinning in slow, lopsided circles, and I lean forward and grab the corner of the desk, trying desperately not to black out.

A visit from President Snow, districts on the verge of rebellion. Direct threats to both mine and Katniss's family. Unless we turn things around on this tour, quiet the discontent and put the president's mind at rest. How on earth are we going to be able to do that?

I stand up and start pacing back and forth, suddenly very anxious about being away from Katniss. She's being prepped at her old house today because we thought we needed to keep up the pretense of living apart for the prep teams. I have half a mind to send Effie over to fetch her and insist that she be prepped here with me, but she's probably only halfway though the process and I don't want to worry her. I'll have to tell her about this, but now isn't the time.

A loud banging on my front door startles me out of my morbid thoughts. It can only mean that Portia and my prep team have arrived. I barely have enough time to get into the hallway before they are descending on me, mourning about the long length of my hair and clucking over my hands, which have re-acquired their fair share of baking burns. They set me up a chair in our bedroom and start talking, thankfully not noticing that I don't really participate much in the conversation, except to insist that they not cut my hair too short.

Portia dresses me in a comfortable pair of thick black pants with a simple grey undershirt and a nice, thick, grey and blue sweater. A dark grey coat, scarf, and matching gloves complete the outfit.

Finally my team decides that I'm ready and we head downstairs where Effie starts barking orders. "Attention everyone! We're about to do the first outdoor shot where the Victors greet each other on the start of their fabulous trip. All right Peeta, big smile now, you're on camera!" and she all but shoves me out the door.

For a moment I can't see very well due to the heavily falling snow, but then I can make out Katniss coming out of the front door of her old house. My face breaks into a huge smile and I practically run towards her, spinning her around and causing us both to slip and fall on a patch of ice in the street. She lands on top of me and we stare at each other for a moment. I can see a quizzical look pass across her face; she knows something's wrong. I nod once, hopefully conveying to her successfully that I'll tell her about it later. Then I tug her face towards me and kiss her. It's a staged kiss, all lipstick and perfume and snowflakes and cameras in our faces, but still passionate enough to curl the toes on my good foot.

The rest of the afternoon is a blur of answering questions, saying goodbye, and getting to the train station. After answering a few more questions and eating a delicious dinner with Effie and our stylists, Katniss and I are finally alone in our compartment. We both shower and pull on warm pajamas and robes. Finally, when the train seems quiet, she looks at me pointedly, one of her eyebrows raised.

I stand up and take her hand. "Let's go see if Haymitch is still awake," I say, trying to sound causal. "I have some questions for him about the Tour." Katniss nods and puts on some slippers. I've never been more thankful for her complete trust in me. Who knows what kind of listening devices they have in these compartments.

We pad down the hall to Haymitch's room, knocking several times before he answers us with a scowl. "What do you guys want?" he grumbles, a cloud of wine fumes nearly knocking us over.

"We need to talk to you," I say, trying to sound causal and impatient at the same time.

"Right now?" he asks, scrubbing at his face with his hand. I nod. His eyes narrow as we feel the train start to slow down.

"Must be a fuel stop," he says, lurching forward out of his room. "Let's get some fresh air for a minute."

Silently thanking him, Katniss and I follow him down the hall to a door. Haymitch pushes the door open, practically falling out and into the snow. Katniss waves away the attendant who rushes forward to try to help. "Don't worry," she says. "He's just drunk and needs some fresh air. We'll be back soon."

We walk along the track until we reach the end of the train. Then Haymitch turns to us. "Okay, what's so important?" he says.

I tell them everything. Neither one of them say a word the entire time that I'm speaking. Katniss clings tightly to my hand, which I can feel is trembling.

"So basically, everyone we love will die if we fail," Katniss says, her grey eyes blazing in the moonlight.

Haymitch just looks back and forth between the two of us. "Then you can't fail," he says finally. "This is your life now. You'll have to broadcast every detail of your romance, you'll have to have their huge Capitol wedding, in a few years they will expect kids...". He lets those last words just hang in the air. Katniss gasps and covers her mouth with her hand.

I wrap my arm around her. "Any kids that we have will eventually be reaped, you know that!" I say sharply to Haymitch, unable to hide my anger at the unfairness of all of it.

Haymitch nods, looking as sober as I've ever seen him. "Yes, they will. And there won't be anything either of you can do about it."


	28. District Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> District 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter borrows some dialogue from the original book and movie, as I didn't really think I could write it better than that. :).

KPOV

The first stop on our Victory Tour is District 11, which, after the events of yesterday, is really the last place I want to visit right now.

Peeta and I didn't hardly sleep at all last night after our conversation with Haymitch. We were too tired to make love and yet too wound up over our newfound knowledge to sleep. We just clung to each other, whispering words of support and comfort that at least we're in this, whatever this is, together.

I'm exhausted and cranky when my prep team knocks on our door in the morning. After I extract myself from Peeta's ironclad grip (he finally was able to fall asleep, apparently), we walk to what was apparently supposed to be my sleeping compartment, since all of my Tour outfits are stored in here.

I'm barely able to make small talk as my prep team frets over the state of my fingernails and the split ends on my hair. Once they are done, Cinna comes in with my outfit for the day, a pretty sunset orange dress that earns him my first smile of the morning. Peeta will love this.

After I'm dressed, Cinna directs me to the dining car to eat something before we pull into the District 11 station. I see the basket of cheese buns on the dining table and smile again. Peeta must have made sure they made them for me, since he knows when I'm too anxious or upset to eat anything else, I will at least eat one cheese bun. Even if they aren't his.

I've just taken a bite out of the cheese bun when Peeta joins me, looking very handsome in a pair of navy pants and a white button down shirt with orange stitching on the pocket and collar. His hair has been styled up off of his forehead but I run my hand through it anyway before greeting him with a kiss.

After our snack Effie ushers us off of the train, where we are greeted with a squad of eight Peacekeepers who direct us to the back of an armored truck. Effie sniffs as the door clanks shut behind us. "Really. You'd think we were all criminals! This isn't very festive!" she says, her face scowling. "Anyway. It's customary for the Victor, or Victors in your case, to give a brief eulogy to the fallen tributes in each district. For District 11 that's Thresh and Rue." My heart lurches at the mention of Rue's name. "Here are the speeches," Effie says, holding out fancy printed cards for us to take.

I just stare at them, prompting Peeta to reach over and grab them both. "I can do the talking, if you want," he says to me. He knows me so well, he knows exactly what I'm feeling right now.

"Thank you," I say quietly over the lump in my throat. Peeta slides his arm around my waist and I lean my head onto his shoulder.

We arrive at the Justice Building and are directed up the stairs, where the District 11 mayor introduces us to polite applause. I glance out into the crowd, picking up the platforms in the back where the families of the dead tributes are standing. I can see Thresh's mother and a girl who I guess to be his sister, as she is tall and muscular like he was and they have similar faces. I'm not prepared for Rue's family. I can see her mother holding a young child, maybe three or four years old, with four other siblings of various ages standing in a row in front of her, but no sign of any father. Rue had talked about her father in the arena; he was a harvester, like the rest of her family. Where is he now?

The applause dies down and Peeta and I are presented with large flower bouquets. The Peeta starts to speak, once again showing his talent for moving crowds with his words. His words come not from the prepared speech given to him by Effie, but from his heart, from our hearts. "Both Thresh and Rue were so young," he starts off, his voice somber. "But our lives aren't measured in years, they are measured in the lives of the people we touch around us."

Oh my sweet Peeta. I don't know how he always seems to know the right something to say. I feel my eyes fill with tears listening to him, and I'm sure there's not a single dry eye in our audience either.

"It can in no way replace the loss of your loved ones," Peeta continues, "without whom neither Katniss nor I would be standing here. But as a token of our thanks we would like to donate one month of our winnings every year, for the rest of our lives."

Gasps litter throughout the crowd and the families stare at us in shock. There's no precedent for what Peeta has done. It's  probably not even legal, but with those simple words he has promised to take care of those families for as long as we live. I look over at him, my eyes shining with the tears threatening to fall, and he gives me a sad smile. "You are amazing," I say, as I lean up to kiss him before looking back out onto the crowd.

I step forward towards the microphone. I just can't disappoint Rue's family by staying silent. "I just wanted to say," I begin, my voice shaking a little as I look back and forth between the two tributes' families. "I only spoke to Thresh once, just long enough for him to spare my life. He played the game on his own terms, and I respected him for that, since it would have been so easy for him to team up with the Careers." I think I see Thresh's mother nod her head in agreement.

"But I did know Rue," I continue, looking towards Rue's family. "I see her in the flowers that grow by my house. I hear her in the mockingjay songs. But most of all, I see her in my sister, Prim." My voice cracks and I'm willing the tears not to fall. "And I'm sorry I couldn't save her. Thank you."

There's a long pause where thousands of eyes seem to stare at me. Then from somewhere in the crowd, someone whistles Rue's four note mockingjay tune. The one that she told me signaled the end of the workday in the orchards, and the one that we used that meant we were safe in the arena. I manage to find the whistler, an old man with white hair, and his eyes meet mine briefly.

What happens next is shocking. Every person in the crowd presses the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and extends them to us. It's our sign from District 12, the last goodbye I gave Rue in the arena. I feel Peeta squeeze my hand which has started to tremble. Our acts of kindness have backfired horribly. We only meant to express our thanks, but somehow we have elicited something dangerous. An act of dissent in a district. This is the very thing we were supposed to be suppressing!

Peacekeepers start moving towards the crowd at the same time as others pull Peeta and I back through the doors of the Justice Building, but not before I see the old man who whistled being forced to his knees, and a bullet put through his head.

"No!!" I scream. Peeta grabs my hand and pulls me into the Justice Building lobby as the doors shut behind me, holding me back as Haymitch comes towards us, looking more angry than I've ever seen him.

"Follow me right now, and shut up!" he snaps, leading us up a labyrinth of stairs and hallways until we've reached what seems to be the attic, up inside the dome of the Justice Building. The coat of dust blanketing everything is so thick it's clear that no one has been up here in years. Haymitch kicks the door shut behind us and turns around.

"What happened?" he demands, looking between Peeta and me.

Peeta's face is ashen and his hands are shaking. "I think we both just made things worse," he whispers, wrapping his arms around me and burying his face into my hair.

"We were just trying to be nice," I stammer out, the image of that old man getting his head blown off seared into my eyes.

"Nice!" Haymitch yells. "You were trying to be nice? Look where that got you! This is exactly what President Snow didn't want to have happen!"

"It was my fault, Haymitch," Peeta says, his voice still muffled from my hair. "Don't yell at Katniss."

"It's both our faults, you're not taking the blame for everything," I chastise him softly. "We're sorry Haymitch," I add, trying not to sound panicked. "We didn't mean for this to happen, Snow has to know that! Please, just help us get through this trip and then we can go home and not cause any more trouble."

"This trip?" Haymitch says sarcastically. "You two both need to wake up! You never get off this train, Sweetheart. You two are mentors now. Your lives will never be yours completely. You're going to live happily ever after in the full view of the public, do you understand?"

My heart sinks and I hear Peeta gasp. No privacy, no quiet life together in our house in Victor's Village. Every year the Capitol will broadcast all the details from our romance, and we will be forced to mentor two new tributes from District 12 who most likely won't ever stand a chance in the arena, given what Peeta and I did in ours.

Haymitch takes a deep breath. "From now on, you two will only say what Effie and I tell you to say, nothing more and nothing less. Do you understand?"

Peeta and I both nod, still clinging to each other like we're afraid the other might be snatched away. "Come on then," Haymitch says. "You both have a tour of the district now, and then we have a party to attend tonight."

We are escorted into a car for the tour around the district. As we drive around I'm amazed at how so completely different it is from District 12, where you can pretty much walk from one end of the district to the other in a few hours. Here there are huge open fields with herds of dairy cattle grazing in them, long, straight roads, and only a few rolling hills. So unlike our heavily wooded home with its view of the distant mountains.

We both gasp when the fence rises up before us. Towering at least thirty-five feet in the air and topped with coils of razor-sharp barbed wire, it makes our fence back in District 12 look childish. My eyes quickly inspect the base, which is lined with enormous metal plates. There would be no burrowing underneath this fence; no escaping into the woods to hunt. Then we see the watchtowers, placed evenly apart, manned with armed guards and looking completely out of place among the fields of wildflowers.

"That's something different," Peeta says, his eyebrows raised.

Rue had given me the impression that the rules in District 11 were enforced pretty harshly, but I never imagined something like this.

Then the crops begin, stretched out as far as the eye can see. Men, women, and children, wearing straw hats to keep off the sun, straighten up and turn our way as we go by, taking a moment to stretch their backs. I can see orchards off in the distance; that must be where Rue would have worked, collecting the fruit from the slimmest branches at the tops of the trees. Small communities of shacks, so run-down that the houses in the Seam look upscale, spring up here and there. And on and on it goes.

"How many people do you think live here?" I ask Peeta. He shakes his head. In school they refer to District 11 as a large district, but I don't know any actual figures on the size of the population. Something about this place is very unnerving to me and I feel myself start to shiver. Peeta puts his arm around my shoulders and I burrow into his side for the rest of the tour and close my eyes, trying to block it out.

Back in the room that's been assigned to us during our stay, Peeta and I take a long shower together, both to save time and to feel close to each other before being thrown back into the public eye. I take some time to massage his leg, knowing he'll be on it a lot tonight, and we insist on being prepped together. Our prep teams seem completely oblivious to the horrific events of the morning as they primp and polish and dress us. They're too excited about attending the party tonight since it's the first time that District 12 has won in so long.

As usual Peeta and I are dressed in complementary outfits and he looks as dashing as ever, even if Portia insists on his hair being gelled back off of his forehead again. Only I can see the fear that's now ever present behind his blue eyes. As we arrive at the Mayor's mansion Effie gets all of us lined up in a formation. First the prep teams, then her, the stylists, Haymitch, and Peeta and me last. Peeta offers me his arm as we hear musicians begin to play somewhere below, and I take it gratefully as we descend the steps into the ballroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to thank everyone who's been reading and commenting! I really appreciate the constructive comments and I'm so glad that you're enjoying my story. :)


	29. The Party of the Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Party in the Capitol.

PPOV

We are sucked into what becomes an indistinguishable round of dinners, ceremonies, and train rides. Each day it's more of the same. Wake up, get dressed, listen to a speech in our honor, give a thank-you speech in return. But now it's only what Effie gives us, never any personal additions.

Most of the time we get a brief tour of the district we're visiting. Towering forests in District 7, ugly textile factories in District 8, and my favorite, the ocean in District 4. Then we get dressed in our evening clothes and attend another dinner or ball, before hurrying back to the train to start it all again.

Katniss and I are solemn and respectful during the ceremonies, but always linked together by our hands or arms, drawing on each other's strength through our physical touches. During the dinners we play it up a little. We kiss, we dance, we get caught trying to sneak away to be alone. Back on the train, alone in the darkness of our room, we comfort each other in the best way we know how, caring less and less if we're heard through the thin walls of our train compartment as the Tour goes on.

Even without our personal speeches to trigger dissent, I can feel something in the air, like the rolling boil of a pot about to run over. It's not everywhere. Some crowds have the weary-cattle feel that I know District 12 usually projects during these ceremonies. But in other districts, like 8 and 4, there seems to be genuine elation underlined with fierce determination. When they chant our names it almost sounds like a cry for vengeance rather than a cheer. When the Peacekeepers press in, they press back instead of retreating. This has obviously been an undercurrent in these districts for a long time, and, just as obviously, there's nothing that Katniss and I could say or do to stop it.

Katniss pretty much stops eating about halfway through the Tour, and no amount of cajoling or extra cheese buns on the breakfast table can convince her to eat more. It gets to the point where Cinna has to start taking in her clothes. At night we barely sleep as Katniss insists on making love multiple times per night, after each time the peace and tranquility only lasting a little while before she tugs on me again. The fear of falling asleep is palpable as the nightmares begin almost instantly for both of us, often with Katniss waking up screaming and me in a cold sweat.

Effie tries to ask us to be more discreet, which makes Katniss scoff. "Maybe President Snow will hear about it," she says with a scowl.

The back-to-back appearances in Districts 2 and 1 are their own special kind of hell. The tribunes from District 2, Cato and Clove, were the last team standing besides Katniss and me and could have both made it home if we hadn't. And Katniss was credited with eliminating both of the District 1 tributes, as the boy, Marvel, was the one who killed Rue, and the girl, Glimmer, died from the tracker jackers.

By the time we reach the Capitol we are desperate and exhausted. There are seemingly endless appearances to adoring crowds, and it's obvious that here among the privileged there's no need to convince them of anything, and no danger of any uprising, but it still seems like too little, too late.

Effie and Haymitch finally escort us to our old quarters in the Tribute Center, informing us that there is an interview with Caesar Flickerman scheduled for tonight, followed by the 'party-of-the-year' at President Snow's mansion. Katniss and I excuse ourselves quickly and head to our room, which was her room when we were here last, before quickly realizing at the same time that we probably can't speak freely in here.

"C'mon," I say, taking her hand. "Let's order some food and go somewhere for a bit."

The roof, with its tinkling wind chimes and lack of obvious cameras is a much better place to be right now, and I can see Katniss visibly relax as we arrive. I spread out a blanket and sit down, pulling her down to sit between my legs. She leans her head against my chest and we sit in silence for a while, enjoying the moment where we don't have to put on a show for an audience.

I hear Katniss sigh. "What are we going to do, Peeta?"

I don't respond right away, since I don't really have a good answer for her. "I don't know".

Katniss thinks for a minute, playing with my fingers. "We could get married."

"Katniss, we already are," I remind her, grabbing her left hand and kissing the wedding ring on her finger.

She chuckles a little and turns to face me. "I know that," she says, her eyes twinkling. "But the Capitol doesn't know it yet. Haymitch said we'd have to have their big Capitol wedding, maybe it would help if we did it now? You could propose to me tonight at the interview."

I exhale heavily. The proposal I already did was perfect for us, and the wedding we already had was perfect for us. But since I don't have any other suggestions right now, I reluctantly agree. "All right. But I feel pretty stupid proposing to my own wife." Katniss giggles, and it is such a beautiful and rare sound that I can't help but pull her closer to me so I can kiss her. "I'm so glad we came up here," I say between kisses. "This is the most relaxed I've been since we started this Tour." Katniss doesn't respond, she just brings her face closer again until our lips meet.

That night on the stage, Caesar Flickerman, in his twinkling midnight blue suit, his hair and lips still dyed a powder blue, flawlessly guides us through the interview. When he asks about our future plans, I drop to one knee in front of Katniss, and in a grandiose style that makes the audience gasp, I ask for her hand in marriage. It does feel absolutely ridiculous to be proposing to my own wife in front of thousands of people, but effect it produces is the desired one, as Caesar is beside himself and the Capitol audience is hysterical in their happiness.

The party that follows at President Snow's mansion has no equal. Katniss is absolutely stunning in a sapphire blue sleeveless dress with silver accents and matching shoes, her hair styled in loose curls around her face and cascading in waves down her back. I don't look too bad myself in a matching sapphire blue suit with a silver handkerchief tucked into the jacket pocket, although the highly polished black shoes are a bit slippery, which requires me to have to walk very carefully as we walk down the steps into the ballroom. The forty-foot ceiling has been transformed into the night sky, the stars looking exactly like they do at home. There's a band set up in the corner of the room, the musicians looking like they're floating on fluffy white clouds. The room is filled with overstuffed sofas and chairs, designed to allow the partygoers to indulge in the amazing spread of food in the utmost comfort.

And the food. Everything you can possibly think of, and some that I probably couldn't, are spread over tables at least 30 feet long. Whole roasted cows and pigs still turning on spits, huge platters of fowl stuffed with fruits and nuts, countless cheeses, breads, vegetables, sweets, and waterfalls of wine and flaming steams of spirits.

Our afternoon on the roof has obviously helped Katniss's mood, because she turns to me with her eyes as big as saucers. "Peeta, I want to taste everything in the room!"

"You'd better pace yourself then," I say with a smile, glancing back at the tables. I don't think it's even going to be possible to try everything just in one evening. Katniss grabs a plate and starts filling it. I don't bother, knowing I'll get to try anything she doesn't finish, and I don't want to waste food. Throwing food away, what I see many people doing so casually here, is still abhorrent to both of us.

People constantly seek us out, and Katniss's mockingjay pin has apparently spawned a new fashion sensation, as several people come up to us to show us their new accessories. The bird has been sewn into silk lapels, made into earrings and rings and bracelets, and even tattooed onto tinted skin. I can only imagine what President Snow thinks of that.

Just as I'm thinking that there's no way I can eat another bite we run into Katniss's prep team, who are obviously intoxicated and going on and on about how much fun they are having.

"You have to try one of these, they're divine!" Flavius says, pushing a plate full of tiny pastries towards me.

"I can't eat another thing," I say. Flavius laughs like I just told a really funny joke.

"No one lets that stop them!" Octavia chimes in, grabbing a small crystal glass with a pink liquid in it from a nearby table. "Drink this, and soon you'll be able to eat whatever else you want."

I eye the glass suspiciously. Surely they don't mean...

"It makes you sick," Octavia continues, like it should've been obvious. "So you can go on eating! How else would you be able to try everything?"

No. Just no. Very carefully, I hand the glass back to Flavius. "C'mon Katniss," I say, taking her hand. "I think it's time for a dance."

Effie had insisted that Katniss and I learn the "proper" way to dance after watching us at the Mayor's party back in District 12 after our Games, so I'm not able to hold her as closely as I want to, but at least the music is slow so we don't have to move that much. Which is good, because with the way my mind is swirling combined with these stupid shoes and my sore left hip, I'm afraid all I'd do is stomp all over Katniss's feet.

"You know, maybe we were wrong," I say quietly. Katniss looks up at me in alarm.

"About what?" she asks warily.

"About trying to subdue things in the districts. You know, you go along with it, thinking you can deal with it, and then... then they're just throwing it up so they can stuff more in. It's disgusting."

"Shh," Katniss says, putting her head on my shoulder. "Not here. Save it for home." And she's absolutely right. Here is not the place to be talking like that. I sigh and pull her closer to me, the heck with Effie. I want to hold my wife.

"Mr. Mellark?"

I turn quickly, almost looking for my father as I'm not used to being called Mr. Mellark, before I see two uniformed Peacekeepers walking towards us. I hear Katniss inhale sharply and I tighten my arm around her waist.

"Yes?" I reply, thankful that my voice doesn't squeak.

"President Snow would like to speak with you, upstairs in his office," the taller, more severe-looking Peacekeeper says.

"What for?" Katniss says, a little too forcefully, causing the Peacekeeper to frown.

"I don't know, miss," he replies. "I was only asked to escort Mr. Mellark upstairs."

"I'd like to come as well," Katniss insists, clinging tightly to my hand as we follow the Peacekeepers out of the ballroom and down a dark hallway to an elevator. The shorter Peacekeeper turns to Katniss. "The President only asked for Mr. Mellark, Miss Everdeen. I'm afraid you're going to have to stay here."

Katniss and I both gulp as the elevator doors open, and I feel the hand of the shorter Peacekeeper guiding me into the elevator.

"I'll stay right here and wait for you," Katniss says, kissing me quickly. I try to not look as scared as I feel as the doors close between us. There can't be any way that the president heard us talking just now, can there?

The doors open again into a brightly lit hallway which ends in a pair of dark-paneled doors. The tall Peacekeeper knocks on the door and a muffled "come in," is heard from behind the doors.

Snow's office has an absolutely breathtaking view of the surrounding mountains, visible even in the moonlight. I glance warily around the room, noting all of the roses placed in vases strategically around the room. The scent coming from them almost seems artificial it's so pungent.

President Snow stands up from his chair. "Ah Mr. Mellark, thank you for coming."

Like I had a choice? "Of course, sir," I say, trying to keep my voice even.

Snow walks over to a tumbler and pours himself a small glass of amber liquid. "Would you like some? It's the best scotch that District 2 has to offer."

"No, thank you," I reply, my back stiff. I can feel my right knee shaking a little.

Snow downs his entire glass of scotch before continuing. "So, are you and Miss Everdeen enjoying your Tour?"

"It's been lovely," I say, keeping my eyes glued to his face.

He smiles, that snake-like smile of his that makes my blood feel like it's curdling. "Too bad the districts didn't enjoy it as much, eh?" he says, all the pretense of being friendly completely gone.

I feel my heart start to thump. "What do you mean?" I ask, my voice starting to rise despite my efforts to stay calm.

He takes a few steps closer to me. "What I mean, is that you failed. You and Miss Everdeen had only one task for this Tour, and you failed, Mr. Mellark. The districts have not been placated, there is still dissent and the threat of uprisings."

My mouth is dry and my heart is now pounding so hard I feel like I might pass out. "What do you want us to do then?" I ask, absolutely dreading the answer.

President Snow tilts his head, his perfectly manicured fingers running through the whiskers on his chin. "I haven't decided yet," he says. "A lot will depend on your behavior after you return to District 12."

"Our behavior?" I say, confused.

"Tell me, Mr. Mellark, have you met Mr. Odair yet? The famous District 4 Victor?"

I blink and nod my head. Katniss and I met Finnick Odair when we stopped in District 4. Bronze-haired, green-eyed Finnick was the one who led us around his district and took us to the beach for a few hours, talking pretty much non-stop. He reminded me a little of Rye from back in his player days, and the number of women I've seen hanging on his arms just tonight at the party seems to reinforce that view.

"Mr. Odair has a very, shall we say, useful purpose," Snow continues. "You may not know this, Mr. Mellark, but there are many Capitol citizens who consider it a great honor to spend some quality time with the Victors, especially those more attractive and desirable Victors."

My palms start to sweat. Oh no, he wouldn't.

"Miss Everdeen is quite lovely, don't you think?" he asks me, his hand running over his chin. "I'm sure there are a number of Capitol citizens who would love to spend some time with her."

No, I won't let you or anyone else ever touch my wife. I can feel the blood draining from my face and my stomach starting to swirl.

"Even yourself, with your, disability, would be considered a rather good catch," he continues. "In fact, there are even some people who have an attraction for that sort of thing."

I gulp and shake my head, trying to clear it. I don't care what could happen to me, but I have to protect Katniss. "Please don't hurt Katniss," I whisper, hating myself for having to resort to begging. "Please. We never meant for any of this to happen."

Snow stares at me without responding for a minute, running his hands over and over his chin. "I know you didn't," he finally says, a slight smile passing over his lips. Then his eyes narrow dangerously. "And that's the only reason why I haven't done anything like that yet. But I'm warning you, Mr. Mellark, one more wrong move from either of you, and your pretty little wife will have to start making frequent trips back here to the Capitol to entertain my friends. And maybe, I'll even let you watch."

Horrible thoughts of being forced to watch while the President's slimy friends violate my Katniss immediately fill my head, and I can't hide the audible gasp that escapes my lungs. My stomach gives a violent lurch and I stumble backwards. Snow lets out a chuckle at my obvious distress and moves over to shake my hand.

"I'm glad we understand each other, Mr. Mellark. Now I think it's time for you to return to your party," he says, pushing a button on his desk. Almost instantly the double doors open and the same two Peacekeepers appear to escort me back downstairs.

"I need to use the restroom," I rasp as soon as the doors are closed. The short Peacekeeper points me in the direction of a bathroom and I barely make it to the sink before I completely empty the contents of my stomach. I double over gasping, trying to take deep breaths but only managing to choke. I need to get Katniss and get out of here, but I don't want to scare her.

Finally, after I splash some water on my face and rinse out my mouth, I'm able to calm my breathing down a little. My eyes are still dilated, my face pale, and my hair is a mess so I run my wet hands through to try and tame it. Katniss will know something is wrong as soon as she sees me, but I can't help that. I only need to get her out of here as soon as possible.

Katniss is pacing in the hallway when the elevator doors open. She takes one look at me and grabs my hand, her other hand moving up to caress my cheek. "Peeta?" she asks, sounding scared. "What's wrong?"

I can't even answer her.  I just fling my arms around her and bury my face into her neck, breathing in her familiar scent. Katniss pulls away enough to look at my face again and wraps her arm around my waist. "Let's go find Effie and tell her we're leaving," she says firmly.

We walk back into the ballroom, flashbulbs going off in our faces. Katniss's arm stays locked around my waist as we search for Effie and Haymitch, finally finding them by the dessert table.

"Peeta doesn't feel well, Effie," Katniss tells her. "We'd like to leave now and get some sleep." Effie looks flustered for a minute and glances around the room, probably trying to make sure we've spoken with and had our pictures taken with all the important people. Haymitch is eyeing us suspiciously.

Apparently satisfied, Effie turns back to us, sighing. "All right then. There's a car downstairs waiting to take you both back to the Tribute Center."

"Thank you, Effie," I manage to wheeze out, still clinging to Katniss like I'm afraid she's going to be snatched away from me. Because unless something major happens, and soon, I'm going to be powerless to stop her from being ripped right out of my arms.


	30. Peeta's Worst Fears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please heed the M rating. ;)

KPOV

As we slide into the backseat of the Capitol car, Peeta pulls me onto his lap and wraps his arms around me so tightly that it's almost hard for me to breathe. I don't protest, even though we're probably breaking some law of the road, because he is obviously very upset about something and there is no way we can talk about it right now. Every now and then I feel his arms tighten even more around me and his body shudders, making me jump.

"I'm sorry, love," he whispers, his voice heartbreakingly sad.

I kiss his head and run my fingers through the hair on the back of his head, which usually is calming for him. "It's okay," I whisper back. "Whatever it is, we'll be okay."

Thankfully, the ride back to the Tribute Center is only about ten minutes. Peeta grabs my hand as soon as we arrive and hurries me inside, wrapping his arms around me in the elevator up to the 12th floor, where an Avox is standing by to let us in to our apartment.

Peeta walks right into the bedroom, turning to me and pressing me up against the wall as the door slides shut. "Peeta!" I say, putting my hand on his cheek. "What is wrong?"

His hands go immediately to my hips. "I just need you," he says, his blue eyes flashing with fear, desire, and a fierceness that I can't quite place but looks vaguely familiar. "I need you right now."

"Okay," I whisper, nodding my head. I remember now when I've seen that fierce look in his eyes before; it was whenever we were talking to Gale in the past few months. It's a possessive look.

Peeta's hands go right to the zipper on my dress, pulling it down with one quick stroke and his lips go right to my neck as he pulls the straps down my arms, the dress pooling at my feet. The fierceness in his eyes is matched in his movements, which are more, firm, than I'm used to. Not rough exactly, I know he'd never be rough with me. It's almost like he's desperate, like he's afraid he's going to lose me and is trying to burn the feel of me into his skin.

He shrugs quickly out of his jacket as I go to work on his shirt buttons, but he's too impatient and rips the shirt right off, scattering tiny buttons across the floor. He kisses me and pulls me close, bringing his hands under my thighs to pick me up and place me gently on the bed. His hand starts to caress my cheek, his eyes blazing with that possessive flash.

"You know I love you, right?" he asks, his voice thick.

"Of course I do," I whisper, grabbing his hand and kissing the palm. "Peeta, please tell me what is wrong!"

Peeta just stares at me, still running his thumb lightly across my cheekbone. Slowly, he brings his head down and kisses me. Soft, feather light kisses from my mouth over to my ear.

"I can't tell you here," he whispers, so softly I can barely hear him. "But you need to know, that I'm never, ever going to let anyone hurt you." He takes a deep, shuddering breath. "I'm never going to let anyone else touch you, I would die first. You're mine. You're mine and only mine."

"Yes Peeta," I whisper back. "You are mine, and I am yours. Anything else is unthinkable."

His hands move to undo his belt and he pulls his pants and boxers down at the same time, revealing his already stiff erection. Then he crawls up next to me and starts running his hand lightly up my body, starting at my ankles, up my legs to my sides, stopping at my bare breasts. He shifts so his hands can cover both of my breasts, and he slowly brings his lips down to mine, maintaining eye contact with me until our lips touch. The kiss is so desperately passionate it makes me whimper, causing Peeta to thrust against my leg and his hands to start kneading my breasts, his fingers brushing lightly over my nipples.

"Peeta," I breathe out as his lips finally close over my aching nipple, his hand still ghosting over the other as his hips continue to move against my leg. I bury my fingers into his hair as he sucks and nuzzles and gently bites before moving across my chest to the other breast, circling the nipple with his tongue before closing his mouth over the peak.

"Do you love me, Katniss?" he asks, looking up at me, his voice gravelly. He almost looks like he's afraid of my answer. I stop his face with my hands, looking directly into his blue eyes.

"Yes I do. I love you and only you."

His beautiful eyes fill with tears at my words. "Please keep saying it," he whispers, moving his lips back to my body and kissing down from my chest to my navel.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," I chant, over and over again as Peeta slides my underwear down my legs and starts kissing along the inside of my thighs. "I love you, Peeta!" I cry out at the feel of his warm tongue between my legs. "I love you!" I say, louder this time. "I love you, I love you!" His mouth moves along my center, licking and sucking and kissing me before his lips wrap around my swollen nerve bundle at the top and my hips buck off the bed.

"Peeta!" I cry out, no longer even trying to keep quiet. "I love you!" My fingers are threaded into his hair and I can feel his tongue circling that spot, lighting the fire within me that's threatening to consume me.

Peeta pauses for a second, his eyes meeting mine. "Come for me, Katniss," he says, wrapping his lips back around my nerve and flicking with his tongue. That does it, and I cry out his name again and again as I ride out the waves of pleasure exploding throughout my body.

I feel him pressing hot, wet kisses back up my body and his hard cock rubbing against my thigh as I float back down to earth. "Katniss, I need you," he says, kissing along my collarbone until he finds that one spot on my neck that makes me almost fall apart again. I reach my heavy arms up and cup his face, looking directly into his eyes, dark and dilated.

"Take me," I say, wrapping one leg around his waist. "I'm yours, Peeta." I gently brush his hair off of his forehead as he pushes into me slowly, his eyes never breaking contact with mine. When his hips are flush with mine I bring my other leg around him and cross my ankles behind his back.

"I'm only yours," I whisper. "Always."

Then Peeta starts to move and I can't help the whimpers that fall from my lips. For how many times we've done this already, this time has such an edge of fear and pain to it that I can't help but try to reassure him, in any way that I can, what he needs to hear and feel.

"I love you. I need you. I'm yours." I keep repeating these phrases as his hips move and he thrusts into me, bringing me closer and closer to the edge again.

"Come with me, Katniss," he says, squeezing his eyes shut. "I'm so close!" His left hand intertwines with mine as his right hand moves underneath my hip, raising me up to meet him and that's all it takes for my body to shatter. I feel my walls clench around him as I come so hard that I see stars behind my eyes, hearing Peeta cry out and feeling the gush of warmth as he spills into me. Then he collapses on top of me and brings my hand to his lips. "I love you, Katniss. I promise I'm going to keep you safe."

"Shh," I whisper, running my fingers gently through his hair, my mind racing with what could have possibly scared him so much. "I know you will, go to sleep now."

Peeta falls asleep almost immediately, his body absolutely spent, still partially on top of me with his head lying on my chest. I run my fingers up and down his back and over his shoulders, trying to keep him calm. Every few minutes he whimpers and jerks a bit, breaking my heart a little each time. I've never seen him this upset, even when he was walking away from me on the train ride home from the Games, when he thought I didn't want to be with him, he didn't look this upset. Ever since he returned from his meeting with President Snow he's been acting more afraid than I've ever seen him, like he was afraid he was going to lose me somehow. Making love to him tonight you would have thought it was going to be our last time. I wish there was some way for us to talk without fear of being overheard, but that won't happen until we get back to District 12 two days from now.

After about 30 minutes his breathing evens out and his whimpering stops. I don't really want to move him, but he's starting to get heavy lying on top of me and I really need to use the bathroom.

"I'll be right back," I whisper in his ear softly. He doesn't move or respond at all, so I carefully wiggle out from under him and wrap his arms around my pillow. He hugs it to him and I hear him say my name quietly but he doesn't wake up. I very carefully detach his prosthetic leg and slide his boxers back on him before I tiptoe to the bathroom, grabbing some pajamas on the way.

I've just finished toweling myself off after a quick shower and am slipping into my pajama pants when I hear a loud thud coming from the bedroom. The sound is so startling in the otherwise silent room that I stumble against the sink, feeling like the breath has been stolen from my lungs. I barely have time to register it before I hear an ear-splitting scream.

"KATNISS!!" Peeta screams out. I rapidly pull my pajama top over my head and rush back into the bedroom where Peeta has fallen out of bed, the blankets tangled around his one good leg. He's breathing so hard I'm afraid he's going to hyperventilate and pass out.

"Katniss!!" he cries out again. There are tears streaming down his face. "Katniss, where are you?"

The door to our bedroom slides open just as I reach Peeta on the floor and Haymitch stumbles in, looking like he was sleeping in his clothes. "What the hell is happening in here?" he grumbles, his eyes widening as he takes in the sight.

"Haymitch, help me get Peeta back up on the bed," I call to him, wrapping my arms around Peeta who is clawing vainly at the blankets wrapped around his leg. "Peeta!" I say loudly. "I'm here, I'm right here, it's okay."

Haymitch and I get Peeta untangled and back up onto the bed and I crawl up next to him, pulling his head against my chest. "I'm here, I'm here, it's okay, you're okay. I'm so sorry I left you alone!" Peeta wraps his arms around my body so tightly I'll probably have bruises tomorrow, but I don't care.

"What happened?" Haymitch asks, running his hands through his hair.

"I just got up to take a shower," I tell him. "I took Peeta's leg off when I got up, and when he woke up and I wasn't in the bed with him, he must have panicked and tried to go looking for me and he fell." I pull Peeta as close to me as possible. "Peeta had to go see President Snow during the party tonight, and ever since then he's been acting like he's terrified."

Haymitch narrows his eyes at me. "What did Snow want with Peeta?" he asks, rubbing his hand over his face.

"I don't know, but ever since Peeta came back from meeting with him he's been so scared. He kept telling me over and over that he would keep me safe, and that he wouldn't let anyone hurt me. Snow must have threatened him somehow." At the mention of Snow's name, Peeta whimpers and moves his face up to my neck.

"Shh, it's okay," I whisper to him. "I'm so sorry, Peeta, I shouldn't have left you alone for that long." I rub circles with my hands over his back. "I'm here, it's okay, it's okay now."

Peeta suddenly puts his hands on my face, his eyes wide and swimming with tears. "You're here," he whispers. Then he buries his face into my chest and sobs, huge heaving sobs. "I couldn't find you, I thought they took you from me."

"I'll leave you two alone now," Haymitch mumbles, turning around to leave.

I nod. "Thank you for your help, Haymitch."

It takes a good 15 minutes before Peeta calms down enough to loosen his grip on my body. I lean over to grab a handful of tissues to clean him up a little as his lips find mine. "It would kill me if anything happened to you, Katniss," he says, planting kisses on my cheeks and forehead.

"Nothing's going to happen to me," I tell him. How I wish I could be absolutely sure of that.

"I need to hold you now, Katniss," he whispers, pulling me back flush against his chest and lying back down on the pillows. "I'm so tired and I just want to hold you." Then his arms tighten around me and crush me to him and he buries his face in my hair. I'm not sure how he can breathe well in there, but we both fall asleep quickly, absolutely spent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should be able to get one more chapter posted before Christmas. :)


	31. Victor Talent Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ever wonder what happened to the paintings that Peeta brought to the Capitol?

PPOV

I feel like I've been hit by the Capitol train when I wake up in the morning. My left shoulder and hip are aching and feel bruised, and my throat is sore. Katniss is snuggled next to me, sound asleep, her hair fanned out over my chest. I feel a surge of protectiveness go through me as I run my fingers over her hair, lightly so I don't wake her. "I'm not going to let anyone ever hurt you," I whisper, tightening my arms around her. "I'm going to keep you safe."

I'm just on the brink of sleep again when there's a firm knock on the door. "It's time to get up now you two," Effie calls through the closed door. "It's going to be another big, big, big day!"

"Thank you Effie," I answer back, sighing. Katniss rolls off of me and stretches briefly before turning back to look at me.

"Hey," she says softly. "How're you feeling?"

"Like I've been hit by a train," I answer, grimacing. "How are you doing?"

"You scared me last night, Peeta," she says, putting her hand on my cheek. "You had a bad nightmare and fell out of bed..." she pauses for a minute. Yeah, I remember that part.

"But you were so frantic, Peeta," she continues, running her thumb along my cheekbone. "You had some sort of panic attack or something, and it took a long time for you to calm down again. I'm so sorry I left you alone, I should've known better. I think me being out of bed made you have the nightmare."

"I think I would've had it anyway," I mumble. Being reminded of my conversation with Snow makes me shudder violently.

Katniss looks at me sadly. "It'll be better once we're home," she says, kissing my forehead. "Tomorrow we get to go home."

Today is the day that some lucky Capitolites get to come and look at our talents, my paintings and the clothes Cinna designed for Katniss. Tickets for this event sold out so quickly they had to move it from its usual location at the President's mansion to the lobby of the Tribute Center, and sell more tickets via a lottery system. Effie tells us it's the largest expected turn-out for a Victor talent event that she's ever seen in her 14 years of escorting. I wonder if President Snow knows that.

Both of our prep teams are in sorry states this morning from their overindulgences last night, so there's not a lot of conversation made while they wash and dress us. I insist that Katniss and I be prepped together, which causes some grumbling among the team members about how crowded the room is, but I don't care. I'm not leaving Katniss alone with anyone from the Capitol ever again, no matter how harmless they seem.

Cinna and Portia have everything set up in the lobby of the Tribute Center by the time Katniss and I get downstairs. All of the paintings that I brought are arranged on one side of the huge room, the descriptions I wrote for them printed on cards underneath each one. On the other side of the room is rack after rack of clothing, all designed and made by Cinna. There's everything from pajamas to everyday clothes to evening dresses and outerwear, with a temporary fitting room set up so Katniss can model the clothes if asked to by the interested patrons.

Portia explains that since there aren't as many of my paintings as there are potential buyers that she's set up something called a silent auction, where people can write down a price they are willing to pay for a specific painting and then see if anyone is willing to pay more. I'm astonished at first at the prices offered for my paintings, especially the ones from the Games, but after a while I'm just disgusted by it. The amount of money being offered for just one of my pictures could pay for every single baked good made in my family's bakery for several months, feeding who knows how many people back in District 12.

It's the same going on across the room, where person after person has Katniss model a dress here, a jacket there, and then paying the obscenely large listed prices for each of the pieces without even blinking an eye. I shake my head as I try to figure out why so many of these people would spend such a huge amount of money for something they can't even wear, since the clothes are all sized to fit Katniss's small frame and most of the buyers definitely aren't Katniss's size.

It's well into the evening when finally the huge line of people is gone, along with every single one of my paintings and most of Katniss and Cinna's clothing. I sink down into a chair and wince. I've been on my feet almost the whole day, my whole left side is aching, and my prosthetic seems off somehow, like it's not fitting properly today. Maybe it's these fancy shoes that I'm wearing. I can't wait to get back home and wear my regular clothes again. I just can't wait to get home, period.

I wonder where all the money spent today will go, since it certainly wasn't offered to me or Katniss. Not that we need it, we live more than comfortably on my Victor winnings, but still. It's hard not to think of what that money could do for the people in District 12, or in most of the other districts.

Just then Portia appears with a large man who looks vaguely familiar. As I get painfully back to my feet, she introduces him as Plutarch Heavensbee, the new Head Gamemaker. I can't help but raise my eyebrows as he shakes my hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Mellark," he says, his voice somewhat raspy. "And congratulations on such a successful showing of your paintings here today."

"Thank you," I say tentatively. There's something strange about this man. "Can I help you with something?"

"I wonder if I might also be introduced to your lovely fiancée?" he asks. When he smiles his eyes squint so much they almost look closed.

It's on the tip of my tongue to say no. I don't want this man, or anyone else associated with the Games or the Capitol to even shake Katniss's hand, but I know it wouldn't do us any good right now to disagree.  "Sure, I'll go get her."

"Katniss, there's someone here who wants to meet you," I tell her as she emerges exhausted from the changing room, finally dressed back in the outfit her prep team put her into this morning.

"Who is it?" she asks warily.

"He says he's the new Head Gamemaker," I say, taking her hand and leading her back over to my section.

"I know him," she says suddenly, stopping me. "He's the one who fell into the punch bowl when I shot the arrow at them, during our evaluations."

Hmm. Why is he here to see us? Surely not to punish Katniss for causing him to fall into a punch bowl.

"Miss Everdeen, it's a pleasure to meet you," Mr. Heavensbee says as we reach him. He takes Katniss's hand and kisses it quickly, making my skin crawl. "You'll be happy to know that I've completely stayed away from punch since your evaluations last summer."

His weak attempt at a joke falls pretty flat. Clearing my throat, I break the awkward silence. "So you're the Head Gamemaker this year, Mr. Heavensbee? That must be a big honor."

Mr. Heavensbee chuckles slightly. "Please call me Plutarch," he says, smiling. "And between you and me, there weren't many takers for the job," he adds. "There's so much responsibility as to how the Games turn out."

Yeah, I'll bet there is. The last guy's dead. "Are you planning the Quarter Quell already then?" I ask.

"Oh yes," he replies. "Well, finalizing the details might be a better way to say it, arenas aren't built in a day you know. But the, shall we say, flavor of the Games is being determined now. Believe it or not, I have a strategy meeting tonight."

Plutarch steps back and pulls out a gold watch on a chain from his vest pocket. He flips open the lid to check the time and frowns. "Actually, I should be going soon if I'm going to get all I need done beforehand. The meeting starts at midnight."

I tilt my head in confusion. "That seems late for a meeting..." Katniss starts to say, but then stops as we both are distracted by what happens next. Plutarch has run his thumb over the crystal face of the watch, and, just for a moment, an image of a mockingjay appears. Exactly like the one that Katniss wore in the arena. It flickers like a candle flame for just a few seconds before it disappears.

"That's a nice watch," I say, trying to convince myself I didn't just imagine what I saw.

"Oh it's more than nice," Plutarch responds. "It's a one-of-a-kind watch that I had custom made." He leans forward, almost conspiratorially. "Not everything in the Capitol is exactly how it appears," he says in a low voice.  What in the hell does he mean by that?

"Anyway," he continues, his voice back to normal. "It was a pleasure to meet you both, and I look forward to seeing you next summer at the Quell. Best wishes on your engagement."

"Thank you," Katniss and I both say in unison.

"Well," Katniss says, once Plutarch Heavensbee is out of sight. "That was, interesting."

I just nod. "I've had enough of interesting," I finally say. "I'm so ready to go home now."

I can't hide my limp as we walk back to the elevator to go back up to the penthouse. "Peeta, you're limping!" Katniss says as she sees me wincing.

"It's okay," I say quickly. I don't want her worrying about me. "My hip is sore, that's all."

"We should have you looked at before we leave," she says worriedly.

"No!" I say, a bit too harshly, which causes Katniss to scowl. "No," I say again, much quieter this time. "I'll be okay, it's just sore from the strange bed and my fall last night. I'll be okay once we're home."

That's not entirely true. I'd noticed my hip hurting a little even before we left for the Tour, but I really don't want Katniss to fuss over me more than she already does when we have bigger things to worry about.

Katniss looks skeptical, and I lean down to kiss her forehead. "I'm fine," I insist. "If it's still bothering me after we get home, I'll ask your mom to look at it for me."

"Hmm," she says grudgingly. "Okay, but I don't like the fact that you're in pain, and as much as I hate to admit it, the Capitol doctors would probably be the best people to see if there's a problem."

"There's no problem," I insist, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice. "I'm fine, I just really want to get home."

Katniss looks unconvinced, but thankfully drops the subject. "I want to get home too," she says. "And I think we should get together with your brother and a few other people once we get back." She raises her eyebrow at me as she finishes her sentence, and I understand her meaning perfectly. She wants to know about my conversation with President Snow, and she wants to finish the conversation I started during the party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas to those who celebrate! :)


	32. Some Disturbing News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They finally get to go home.

KPOV

We only return to the penthouse long enough to eat a late dinner and pack up, as Effie tells us that the train back to District 12 is leaving at midnight tonight instead of in the morning. I insist that Peeta rest while I pack our things, to which he agrees grudgingly. I can't help but worry about him, as I know he'd never admit to being in pain until he absolutely couldn't take it anymore.

Once we're on the train, even though we're both exhausted we find that we're too wound up to sleep. Instead of tossing and turning in bed, we wind up in the media car watching a news story about our Victor Talent event. There's lots of footage of Peeta explaining the inspirations behind his paintings, and some footage of me modeling different outfits. There's also a few interviews with some ecstatic Capitolites who purchased paintings or clothes, and an interview with Portia and Cinna. But after a while we both get annoyed at watching ourselves on TV and turn it off.

I decide instead to order some hot chocolate for us while Peeta pulls out his sketchbook for a while. I lean my head against his arm as I sip the drink and watch him draw, my eyelids getting heavier and heavier until I feel myself startle awake, making Peeta jump and almost spilling the rest of my hot chocolate.

"Let's go to sleep now," he whispers, taking the mug from my hand and getting slowly to his feet.

"Mmmhmm," I reply drowsily.

It isn't until we've both showered and are crawling into bed that Peeta realizes that he left his sketchbook back in the room where we were watching TV. "I'll go get it," I say firmly, tucking the blankets up around his chest and pulling on a robe. "You go to sleep."

I pad my way back to the media car and find the sketchbook lying on the couch, right where he left it. I'm just leaving the room when a beeping noise down the hall catches my attention. I tiptoe over to the source of the noise and find myself looking through another door at the back of a Peacekeeper watching television monitors and talking into a headset. Over his shoulder I see the screen of one of the monitors go black. Then the words UPDATE ON DISTRICT 8 start flashing. Instinctively I know I should turn around, that this is not meant for me to see. But instead I stand there rooted to the spot, watching closely.

An announcer appears, a grey-haired woman with a hoarse, authoritative voice. She warns that conditions are worsening and a Level 3 alert has been called. Additional forces are being sent into District 8, and all textile production has ceased.

They cut away from the announcer to the main square in District 8. I recognize it because we were only there last week. There are still banners with our faces waving from some of the rooftops. But below them is a mob scene. The square is packed with screaming people, their faces hidden with rags and homemade masks, throwing bricks. Buildings are burning and Peacekeepers are shooting into the crowd, killing at random.

I've never seen anything like it, but I can only be witnessing one thing. This must be what President Snow calls an uprising. My heart starts thumping so loud in my chest I'm afraid the Peacekeeper will hear it. Very carefully, I back away from the door and hurry back to our sleeping compartment, my mind replaying over and over the sight of those Peacekeepers firing their rifles into the crowd.

Peeta is sound asleep when I get back, and I quickly climb into the bed and curl up next to him, shivering both from the cool air and from what I just saw on that monitor. He slides his arms around me as I position my head on his chest, finally letting the comforting sound of his heartbeat lull me to sleep.

It's early afternoon by the time Effie knocks on our door to rouse us, and I find I'm in the same exact position I was when I fell asleep. Kissing Peeta awake gently, he smiles before opening his eyes.

"I love waking up like this," he whispers, kissing my lips. "You seemed like you slept good."

"No nightmares, for a change," I tell him. Although what I saw on those monitors last night is still replaying over and over in my mind, just being away from the Capitol seems to have calmed us both.

"Me either," he says, stretching. I catch him grimace as he moves over to the side of the bed to start attaching his prosthetic.

"You're still sore?" 

"Yeah, but just a little," he says quickly. "The good sleep helped quite a bit."

"Hmm," I say, not buying the excuse. "I still want my mom to have a look at you tomorrow, and maybe you should stay off your feet for a while. We can meet with your brother and everyone else in a few days."

"I'm fine, Katniss!" he snaps, sounding angry. My eyes widen in shock at the sound of his raised voice and he immediately looks apologetic. "I'm sorry," he whispers, standing and pulling me up and into a hug. I wrap my arms around his chest slowly. He's never raised his voice to me before.

"I'm so sorry," he repeats, rubbing my back. "I'll let your mom have a look tomorrow after breakfast, okay? But I don't want to wait on the rest. We need to talk to everyone as soon as possible."

I nod against his chest. "Okay," I say finally, bringing my hands up to his cheeks. "But don't you ever get upset with me for wanting to take good care of you. It hurts me to see you in pain."

Peeta leans down to kiss my lips. "I'm still getting used to being taken care of," he whispers. "And I hate worrying you, when..." he lets the rest of the sentence go unsaid, but I know what he means. He doesn't want me worrying about him when the fate of the country is practically resting on our shoulders. But he's my husband and my first priority, and like it or not, if he's in pain I'm going to try and fix it.

"I know that," I tell him, looking up into his blue eyes. "But you and I protect each other, right?"

His jaw hardens and he practically crushes me against him. "Yes," he chokes out. "Yes we do."

We have just enough time to get dressed and eat a light lunch before we arrive at the train station. The only thing on the agenda for District 12 is a formal dinner tonight at the Mayor's mansion. Since it's cold outside we're only seen at the train station briefly, to smile and wave at the cameras as we pile into a car. The rest of our prepping for the dinner will take place at the mansion.

When we reach the mayor's house, I only have time to give Madge a quick hug before Effie hustles Peeta and me off to the third floor to get ready. After I'm prepped and dressed in a full-length silver gown, which I think is way too fancy for District 12 but matches my eyes nicely, I've still got an hour to kill before the dinner starts. Peeta is deep in conversation with Mayor Undersee, so I slip off to find Madge.

I find Madge in her room, sitting at her dressing table brushing her wavy blonde hair. She's wearing the same white dress she wore on the day of the last reaping. She sees me coming in the mirror and turns around to greet me. "Look at you," she says, smiling. "You look like you came right off the streets of the Capitol."

I step closer to her. "Even the mockingjay pin, they're all the rage now in the Capitol, thanks to you. Are you sure you don't want it back?"

"Don't be silly, it was a gift," she says, tying her hair back with a pretty gold ribbon.

"Where'd you get it?" I ask her.

"It used to belong to my aunt," she replies. "But I think it was in my family for a long time."

"It's a funny choice, a mockingjay," I say. "I mean, because of what happened in the rebellion. With the jabberjays backfiring on the Capitol and all."

The jabberjays were muttations, genetically enhanced male birds created by the Capitol as weapons to spy on rebels in the districts. They could remember and repeat long passages of human speech, so they were sent into rebel areas to capture our words and return them to the Capitol. The rebels caught on, though, and turned them against the Capitol by sending them home loaded with lies. When this was discovered, the jabberjays were left to die. In a few years they became extinct in the wild, but not before they had mated with female mockingbirds, creating an entirely new species.

"But mockingjays were never a weapon," Madge says. "They're just songbirds, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so," I reply. But they're more than that. A mockingjay is a creature the Capitol never intended to exist. They hadn't counted on the highly controlled jabberjay having the brains to adapt to the wild. They hadn't anticipated its will to live.

"Anyway," I say, shaking my head. "Are you and Rye free tomorrow? Peeta and I were wondering if you two could come over for a while."

"Tomorrow is Sunday," Madge says, thinking. "The bakery closes at noon, so yeah, we're free after that. When should we come over?"

"Come over for lunch then?" I say. "Bring a warm coat, we'll go for a walk after we eat."

Madge looks at me curiously. "Okay. That sounds nice."

Peeta and Rye are both waiting in the hallway as Madge and I exit her room. We both giggle a little at the almost identical looks of surprise and awe that pass over their faces as they see us.

"Wow," Peeta says, holding out his arm for me as Rye wolf whistles next to him. "The two most beautiful girls in Panem. We're pretty lucky guys, hey Rye?"

"Nope," Rye smirks as he reaches for Madge's hand. "You got lucky. I'm just that good." He winks at us as Madge knocks him with her shoulder.

"No, you definitely got lucky!" Madge retorts, linking her arm though Rye's. "I'm the one who's that good."

I roll my eyes. "You two were definitely made for each other," I say as we step down the stairs and into the dining room.

The dinner is uneventful and while extravagant by District 12 standards, much less stiff and formal than the dinners we had while on the Tour. Both of our families are here, including Peeta's mother, who spends the entire evening talking the ear off of Madge while completely ignoring Peeta and me. Prim splits the time talking with Rye about the various teachers at school and talking to me about Rory Hawthorne. Thankfully Bannock and Casey are able to pull my mother into the conversation a little, as she's seated at the other end of the table from me so difficult for me to talk to.

Peeta spends most of the time talking about his paintings with Mayor Undersee, which ends with the Mayor asking Peeta to paint a few pictures especially for him. "I saw that news story about the Talent Event," he says proudly to the rest of the table. "If his paintings are so popular in the Capitol, it's only fitting that I own some as well." Peeta blushes, but I giggle and and gloat a little at the shocked look that appears on Mrs. Mellark's face.

It's late when we're finally allowed to leave. Effie offers to order a car for us and Haymitch but Peeta and I both decline and walk home instead. She kisses us both and tells us that she will see us next at the reaping for the Quell, but to of course call her if we need anything before then. Peeta and I both shiver a little at the mention of the Quarter Quell and as soon as Haymitch is safely deposited into the car and we say our goodbyes, we walk home with my mother and Prim as fast as Peeta's sore hip allows.

We arrive at my old house with Mother and Prim to see that the monthly food shipment has arrived from the Capitol, probably on the same train that brought us home. Peeta insists on helping them bring everything inside before we leave, his face twisting in pain with every step he takes. We get everything put away and hug them both goodnight, finally crossing the street to our house.

Our food shipment is waiting on our front porch as well. Peeta tries to help me put our things away but he's in such obvious pain after the long evening that I take him upstairs quickly to get ready for bed. After I help him shower and massage his leg, I tuck him into bed and kiss him.

"Don't be too long," he whispers. "I don't want to sleep without you."

"I'm just going to get the food put away, then I'll come back up," I promise him. "We can do the rest tomorrow."

He's fast asleep when I curl up next to him about 20 minutes later, my hair still wet from a quick shower. It feels so nice to be back in our own bed that it hardly takes me any time at all to fall asleep.


	33. A Trip to the Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A walk in the woods sounds nice, doesn't it?

PPOV

It feels so nice to sleep in our own bed again, and not have to worry about someone knocking on our door to wake us up. Even still, it's barely sunrise when I open my eyes. I guess the baker's hours never really leave the baker.

I tuck the blankets up around Katniss's sleeping form before attaching my prosthetic and dressing as quietly as I can. My hip twinges in pain once I stand up and I almost sit right back down. I'll have to suck it up and go see Mrs. Everdeen this morning before we go on our walk this afternoon with everyone or I'll never be able to make it.

I head downstairs and get some cheese buns baking, which brings Katniss down the stairs as soon as they come out of the oven.

"Mmmmm," she says, biting into one, the gooey cheese melting down her chin. "I've missed these!"

I can't hide my wince as I come around the counter to give her a hug. "That's it," Katniss says firmly. "I'm calling my mom and we're going over there right after breakfast."

"I know, I know," I say, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice. Katniss returns from using the phone in the study and says that Mrs. Everdeen is expecting us.

"Hey Mom," Katniss says as we arrive, hugging her mother. "Where's Prim?"

"She's over at the Hawthorne's for the day. Apparently her and Rory have a school project that they're working on. Don't worry," she adds quickly, seeing the look on Katniss's face. "Hazelle is there too and assured me she would watch them carefully."

"Hmm," Katniss says, frowning. "She'd better watch him closely." I just chuckle.

"What can I do for you, Peeta?" Mrs. Everdeen asks turning to me.

"His hip has been bothering him," Katniss says before I can answer, shooting me a stern look. "He said it started before the Tour but got worse while we were gone." She at least leaves out the part about me falling out of bed.

"It almost feels like my prosthetic doesn't fit properly anymore," I add.

Mrs. Everdeen looks thoughtful for a moment. "Come and lie down for me," she says. "Which hip is it?"

"My left one," I say, stretching out on the couch in the living room. Mrs. Everdeen pokes and pushes on my hip with expert hands, noting where it's painful by my change in expression.

"All right Peeta. I want you to take your shoes off and and walk across the room for me now," she says.

"Um, okay," I say, feeling a bit foolish. I walk to the end of the room and back, and Mrs. Everdeen frowns.

"How tall are you, Peeta?" she asks.

"Ah, I think they said I was just over 5'9" when they measured me at the Tribute Center, before our Games. Why?"

Mrs. Everdeen doesn't answer, she just heads to the kitchen and returns with a cloth measuring tape. "Help me, Katniss," she says, handing Katniss one end of the tape. "Hold that right at the bottom of Peeta's right foot." Then she stands up on a kitchen chair and holds the tape up to the top of my head.

"Yep, it's as I thought," she says. "You've grown, Peeta. I'm measuring you at a solid 5'10" now."

"Really?" I say. "I've been the same height for almost three years, I guess I assumed I was done growing." I feel a little stupid; I thought I was done going through puberty already.

"It's not uncommon for a young man to grow another inch or two in his later teens," Mrs. Everdeen says kindly. "But that also means that your prosthetic doesn't fit you correctly anymore. It's now a little shorter than your real leg, just enough to cause your gait to change and your hip to get sore."

"We need to get you a new one then," Katniss says quickly. "He'll just keep hurting his hip with this one, right?" 

"We can do that when we're in the Capitol next summer," I say. I'm not making any more trips to the Capitol than we absolutely have to. Katniss scowls.

"Peeta, I don't think we should wait that long-," she starts to say.

"No," I say firmly, but gently. "There's probably something we can do in the meantime, isn't there?" I ask, turning back to Mrs. Everdeen.

"I can make an insert for your left shoe," she says. "It should raise your foot enough to compensate some for the leg length. But Katniss is right, you should look into getting a new prosthetic," she adds, nodding at Katniss.

"Next summer," I say again. "I'll let Effie know and she can arrange the appointments."

Katniss sighs in frustration but doesn't argue with me. Mrs. Everdeen takes my foot measurement and returns 15 minutes later with a piece of something that looks like a stiff sort of foam material. She puts it into my shoe and has me walk across the room again.

"How does that feel?" she asks me. "I can see a difference in your gait already."

"Much better," I say appreciatively. My hip still aches, but the sharp pain I'd had with each step is now gone. "Thank you very much!"

Mrs. Everdeen smiles. "You're welcome Peeta," she says. "The insert should last around 2-3 months with normal activity before it flattens out too much to be helpful, so let me know if your hip starts bothering you again and I'll make you a new one."

We spend another hour or so chatting with Mrs. Everdeen, mainly about the Tour and what we liked about the various districts. Travel between the districts is strictly controlled and she's never seen any of the other districts, so she listens intently to our descriptions of each of them. We of course leave out the rest, not wanting to worry her unless we have to.

Madge and Rye are waiting for us by the time we get home. After a quick lunch of soup and crackers, we pull on our warm coats and boots and head across the Meadow, with Katniss carrying some things along for Gale. Rye's eyes grow huge when he sees that we're heading for the fence.

"We're going under the fence?" he asks. Madge for some reason doesn't look surprised.

"Yeah," I say. "We don't really know where it's safe to talk anymore, so we need to go out here. And, we're meeting someone else too." I specifically avoid telling Rye exactly who we're meeting. I don't know if he dislikes Gale as much as Gale seems to dislike him, but I don't want to chance it.

We slide under the fence and find the hollow log where Katniss hides her bows and arrows. Katniss breaks off three twigs from a tree and points them in an arrow shape, indicating which way we will travel. Then she leaves the gifts that she brought: a pair of fur-lined gloves made by Cinna, a thermos of hot tea, and a bag with a few apples and a loaf of fresh bread.

"All right," she says, swinging her quiver over her shoulder and grabbing her bow. "Let's go."

We walk around for about 30 minutes while Katniss shoots and cleans a couple of squirrels. All of Gale's snares were empty, so after she stuffs the squirrels into her game bag we head out in the direction she pointed with her twig arrow.

"I think I'll make a crutch for you," Katniss says quietly as we walk, so only I can hear her. Madge and Rye are talking between themselves behind us. "That way you can use it at home and you won't have to keep your shoes on all the time."

"That sounds fine," I say tersely. "Are you sure Gale will be out here?"

"Yes, he'll be here," Katniss replies.

We walk for another hour before we arrive at a big pile of rocks. Sure enough, Gale is sitting there waiting for us, eating an apple with a bow slung over his shoulder, just as Katniss predicted. His eyebrows raise when he sees all of us.

"What's this?" he says, sounding suspicious. He scowls heavily when he sees Rye and Madge clomping up behind me.

"We need to talk, Gale," Katniss says.

Gale's eyes travel around our group before he answers. "About what?" he says, looking back up at Rye. "And what's he doing here?"

"This concerns all of us, Gale," I say firmly, forcing him to look at me.

I take a deep breath in the icy air. "President Snow came to see me before the Victory Tour left. He's not happy about what happened with the berries in the arena, and he personally threatened to have our families killed."

Gale's eyes narrow suspiciously. "I'm not a part of your family."

"The Capitol thinks that you are," Katniss cuts in. "They think you're my cousin. President Snow threatened you directly."

Gale raises his eyebrows slightly but there's no real show of fear or astonishment. "Anyone else?"

"Well, he didn't exactly give us a copy of the list," I say hotly. "But it's a good guess that it would include your family also."

Gale just stares at me, like he's daring me to flinch. "Unless what?"

"Well, that's why we're all here," I say. "We need to talk about this."

Gale stares for another minute before finally nodding his head. "All right, let's have it."

We all take a seat on the rocks and Katniss starts talking. She begins with the night we were crowned Victors, when Haymitch warned her about the Capitol's anger. I jump in with more details about the visit from President Snow and the murders in District 11. Even Madge chimes in, adding some details about the uprising in District 8 that her father was privy to.

Finally, when everyone is silent again and Gale is stewing over the information, I take another deep breath. This is the part that I'm dreading.

"There's more," I say grimly, reaching for Katniss's gloved hand. "President Snow also asked to meet with me during the party at his house, after we had visited all of the districts." I swallow thickly and Katniss squeezes my hand.

"Have you ever seen Finnick Odair?" I say, looking up at Gale. Gale tilts his head to the side, thinking.

"I know who he is," Rye chimes in. "Isn't he that Victor from District 4? He won a long time ago, supposedly the youngest Victor ever or something. They always show him a lot when they interview the mentors during the Games."

"He struts around like a peacock," Gale blurts out, looking directly at Rye. I can see Rye narrowing his eyes. "Every time he's on TV he's with some different woman."

"Yeah, that's him," I say quickly, looking between Gale and Rye. The last thing we need now is for the two of them to start something ridiculous right now. "He won nine years ago."

"What about him, Peet?" Rye says.

"Well, President Snow told me something about him. He told me that Finnick had a very specific purpose as a Victor." I pause to think of the right way to say it. "He told me that Finnick was a sort of escort for the Capitol."

Confused faces stare back at me. "What do you mean, an escort?" Gale says.

"There are people in the Capitol who like to, to pay certain Victors to spend time with them." I squeeze Katniss's hand again. "President Snow sells them, to people who can pay."

I hear Madge and Katniss gasp. "Peeta, do you mean..." Katniss can't finish her sentence.

"Yes. Finnick is sold. He's not with all those women by choice, he's being forced." I hear Rye swear softly next to me.

"All right, fine," Gale snaps. "I still don't get why we need to care about this."

"Damnit Gale, are you dense?" Rye snaps right back at him. "Don't you get it?"

"The two of you just knock it off!" Madge cuts in, grabbing Rye's hand. "Now is not the time for your petty arguments."

"Peet, are you saying that Snow threatened to do, that sort of thing, to you and Katniss?" Rye asks.

Katniss looks at me with a horrified expression. "Peeta," she whispers. "Is it true?"

I wrap my arm around Katniss's waist and tug her as close to me as I can on these uncomfortable rocks. "Yes," I whisper. "He told me that Katniss and I had failed to calm the districts down during the Tour, and he...". I feel my eyes fill with tears. "He told me that if we didn't behave when we got home, that he would start, selling Katniss. That she would have to start coming back to the Capitol, to 'entertain' his friends. He can't really publicly sell us apart from each other, but there's no limit to what he could do in private." I shudder as I think of it.

Four pairs of eyes stare at me for a moment, until all of a sudden Gale lunges towards me, knocking both Katniss and me to the snow-covered ground.

"You son of a bitch!" he screams. "You did this to her! This is all your fault!" He tries to take a swing at me but I'm able to block him with my forearm just in time.

"And you're a fool if you think I want Snow's disgusting friends touching my wife!" I scream right back at him.

"Get the hell off of him!" Rye yells, pulling Gale off of me and pinning him down. "You're an idiot if you think this is Peeta's fault. Katniss would be dead if it wasn't for Peeta." Gale glares at Rye, almost daring him to move.

"Rye is right, Gale," Katniss says, picking herself up off the ground and holding a hand out for me. "You know he is." Katniss nods at Rye, telling him it's okay to let Gale up. "None of this is Peeta's fault, it's just Snow trying to keep his control over everything. And with what's going on in the districts..."

"Then we fight!" Gale says, his expression hard. "There's already been talk in the mines, people want to fight!"

"How can we do that?" Katniss cries. "You don't know what you're saying! The Peacekeepers outside of Twelve, they're not like ours. The lives of the district people mean nothing to them! District 11 was nothing more than a forced labor camp!"

"That's why we have to fight then!" Gale answers harshly. "Don't you see, you've given people an opportunity here, they just have to be brave enough to take it!"

"We don't have to decide right now," I say firmly, brushing the rest of the snow off of my coat sleeves. "Katniss and I wanted you guys to know about this, in order to protect your families and to make you aware of what's going on with us. But I know I'm not ready right now to go and storm the Capitol."

Gale thinks for a minute and finally nods. "All right. I'll keep you guys updated on what the talk is in the mines then."

I nod. "That sounds great. Thank you."

"Madge?" I say, turning to her. "Do you think you could let us know if anything new shows up on your father's private lines?"

Madge nods eagerly, prompting Rye to wrap his arm around her waist. "Just make sure to be careful," he tells her.

Madge scoffs, her eyes blazing. "You don't need to worry," she says. "Dad's no friend of the Capitol. I won't even have to hide."

"All right then. We can meet here again in a couple of weeks if there's anything new to discuss. Until then, just try and act like everything's normal. But be careful. The Capitol will be at least watching Katniss and me more closely now, so don't say anything to anyone about this. Also, we really have no way of knowing if our houses have been bugged, so be careful about what you say at home too."

"I'm almost sure that our house is bugged," Madge says bitterly. "And most likely all the Victor houses are also."

"Well, it would look too suspicious if all of you started coming to my house," Gale says sarcastically. "So meeting out here is really our best bet."

"We should head back now," Katniss says. "It's getting late and we don't want to be out here after sunset."

After depositing the bows and arrows back in their hiding place we reach the fence and crawl underneath, thankful for the cold to help keep away any Peacekeeper patrols. Katniss and I invite everyone to our house for some hot chocolate but Gale declines, saying he needs to get home. More likely he feels left out, but I can't do anything about that. Rye and Madge and Katniss and me end up making dinner together also, with Madge telling us stories about how much my mother is pushing them to get married.

"With Ban at the General Store now, the bakery will end up going to Rye," Madge says. "And Mrs. Mellark is desperate for him to be married before they sign it over to him."

I feel a twinge of envy. I'm really the best baker out of the three of us when it comes down to it, but there really was never any chance that I would inherit the bakery. Being the third son, and now a Hunger Games Victor, has pretty much made that impossible. Oh well. Hopefully Rye will still let me help him out when I can.

"We're most likely going to wait until Madge has cleared her last reaping though," Rye says. "But as soon as that's behind us, then..." he trails off as he starts to blush. "But speaking of baking, Peet, I was wondering if you could come over tomorrow and help me with a cake order? I still can only do roses man, and it's getting boring."

I chuckle. "Sure, I can do that. Who's the cake for?"

"Dad's having some winter party next week and he ordered it," Madge chimes in.

"Yeah, I can come tomorrow," I say, nodding at Katniss. "But speaking of married, does that mean that the two of you are..."

Both Rye and Madge blush and look at each other. "Yeah," Madge says sheepishly. "Rye asked me while you guys were gone."

"We're so happy for you!" Katniss exclaims. "And who knows, with the Quell coming up, maybe the reaping will be different this time and you won't have to worry about it."

"That's true," Madge says. "Wouldn't that be nice?"

After dinner we sit by the fire for a while, trading old school stories. Apparently Madge kept tabs on Rye almost as much as I did with Katniss.

"I just knew there was more to him than what he appeared," she says, snuggling closer to Rye. I burst out laughing, which causes Rye to grab me and pin me to the floor, using the same move he used to beat me at our last competition.

"Ha! I can still beat you!" he says proudly, helping me back up and cowering a little at the scowl on Katniss's face.

"Ha," I reply. "You only won that day because I happen to notice right then that Katniss was in the crowd, and she distracted me."

Rye laughs. "You're probably right, little brother." He ruffles my hair and reaches for Madge's hand. "We should get going though, it's pretty late and I have the early shift tomorrow."

"I'll see you tomorrow then," I tell Rye as he and Madge pull their coats and boots on to head back out into the cold. Katniss hands Rye the squirrels that she shot earlier, tucked into a bakery box.

"Take these home to your father," she tells him.

"Oh he'll like that," Rye says, tucking the box under his arm. "It's been a long time since Gale's brought anything by to trade. We haven't had anything fresh for awhile." They both wave as the door closes behind them.

Katniss and I fall asleep almost as soon as we get into bed, both of us exhausted from our long walk today. I'm startled awake though by Katniss jerking suddenly in her sleep. She starts shivering and mumbling softly, which always means that she's having a nightmare.

"Katniss, it's okay," I whisper, propping myself up on my elbow and shifting her onto her back. "It's only a dream, it's not real."

"No!!" she suddenly screams, so loud that my ears start to ring. "No, don't hurt him! Please don't hurt him! Peeta, Peeta, it's me! I love you!! They told you lies, they were lying to you! Peeta, I love you! Don't turn away from me!!"

"Katniss!!" I shout, grabbing her arms to keep her from hitting me as she flails about. "Katniss, it's okay, it's only a dream! It's not real, it's not real!" I keep repeating it over and over again until she finally opens her eyes, looking absolutely terrified.

"Peeta!" she cries as her eyes focus on my face. She flings her arms around my neck and sobs into my chest. "Snow had you, and he was watching a man torture you, and I was screaming at them to stop, and Snow just laughed at me and said that you wouldn't love me anymore when they were done with you. Peeta, I wouldn't be me anymore if you didn't love me."

I squeeze her tightly to me. "That's not going to happen, love." I say firmly. "Nothing that Snow could do could ever convince me that I don't love you." Katniss nods against my chest, her sobs finally quieting down after several minutes.

Once we're able to lie down again, with Katniss resting her head on my chest, she brings her hand up to touch my cheek. "Peeta?" she says, running her thumb along my cheekbone.

"Hmm?"

"How come I don't always know when you're having a nightmare? You don't usually seem to thrash around like I do."

"I don't think I do most of the time," I tell her. "Usually I just come to, paralyzed with fear."

"You should still wake me," she says scoldingly. "I wake you up so often."

"It's not necessary," I say as I hug her closer to me. "My nightmares are usually about losing you. I'm okay once I realize you're here."


	34. The Blizzard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things going from bad to worse.

KPOV

It's cloudy and ominous looking outside when I wake up. Something doesn't feel quite right to me. Peeta's chest is pressed up tightly against my back like usual, but it's not enough contact for me at the moment. I roll over carefully in his arms, moving him onto his back but trying not to wake him. As I lay my head down on top of his chest though he starts to stretch, moving my leg over his lap.

"Good morning," he breathes out, hugging me close and sighing. He hasn't opened his eyes yet.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asks when I don't respond. "Are you still scared from your nightmare?" I snuggle closer to him. I don't really want to be away from him today.

"That's part of it, but something about today doesn't feel right," I finally croak, my voice muffled against his chest. "Do you have to go to the bakery today?"

He's sighs underneath me. "I told Rye I'd finish that cake today for the Mayor's party that's coming up," he says, tightening his arms around me. "But I'll go over there right away and then we can spend the rest of the day together."

I nod my head. He doesn't seem worried about anything, so maybe I'm just being paranoid.

"Okay," I finally say. "I'll run out and check the snare line then, before the snow hits." I tilt my face up so I can kiss him. "Just be careful, please."

"I'm just going to the bakery, Katniss," he says teasingly. "You're the one going out into the woods."

"I'll meet you there when I'm done," I say. "I'll bring whatever I find to the Hawthorne's and then I'll come to the bakery, so wait for me there, okay?" I kiss him hard on the lips.

"Okay, but if you keep kissing me like that I won't be able to get out of this bed," he says with a wink.

I smile, trying not to look as worried as I feel, and kiss him again for good measure before helping him up. Both of us dress quickly and after eating some leftover bread and jam for breakfast, he leaves for the bakery.

I've just finished checking and resetting the snares when the roar of an approaching hovercraft startles me, causing me to drop my bow and crouch down in a nearby clump of trees. Watching it fly overhead and out of sight, I take a deep breath and grab my bow, making my way quickly back towards the fence. I'm wracking my brain, trying to think of a good reason why there would be a Capitol hovercraft flying around here of all places when I reach the fence and crawl underneath. Storm clouds have accumulated in the sky and snow has started falling. It looks like the makings of a blizzard.

I walk towards the Seam, heading directly for Gale's house so I can drop my haul and get to the bakery. I'm so deep in thought I don't even see Gale until I almost run into him.

"There you are!" he says, grabbing my arm and pulling me faster towards the Seam.

"Gale!" I exclaim, handing him my game bag and rubbing my hands together. His face is grim and I'm starting to hear people screaming off in the distance. "What's going on?" I ask, trying to not sound as scared as I feel. Something is very wrong here. Gale should be working right now.

"A bunch of trucks arrived carrying a new squad of Peacekeepers about an hour ago," he says, slinging the game bag over his shoulder as we walk towards his house. "They just raided the Hob." We arrive at his house and he throws the game bag inside. He turns to look at me with hatred in his eyes. "There's a new Head Peacekeeper here now, and he's ordered everyone into the Square."

"What for?" I ask, panic starting to rise up in my chest. It was starting to get darker with the heavy clouds overhead. A horrible thought occurs to me. "Gale, I need to get to Peeta. He went to the bakery this morning-"

I'm cut off by Gale grabbing my arm again and pulling me towards the Square. "I know that, Catnip." he says grimly. "I went by the bakery when they closed the mines, after the trucks rolled in. Peeta asked me to come and find you."

I nod. The tears are falling freely from my eyes now, almost freezing on my face and mixing in with the now rapidly falling snow.

The entire Square is crowded with people when we arrive and I crane my neck trying to see what is going on. The people are quiet, whispering among themselves, and there's a sickening cracking sound that I can't quite place. Gale starts pushing his way though the throng of onlookers when he stops so suddenly that I run into his back. He turns around to face me, his jaw clenched and his grey eyes flashing with anger. He grabs my arm and starts to pull me away.

"C'mon Katniss, you don't want to see this," he says, his grip so tight on my arm that I can feel my skin bruising. "There's nothing you can do right now."

"No!" I cry out, knowing in my heart that something is horribly wrong. I shake off Gale's vice-like grip and start pushing through the crowd. I can hear surprised murmurs from the people as I shove people out of the way to reach the front.

"Peeta!" I scream out when I see him.

Peeta's wrists are tied to a square wooden post, his hands above his head and his back completely bare and covered in horrible lash marks. His entire back looks like it's been flayed open, shredded and bleeding and staining the waistband of his pants. His jacket and shirt are piled in a heap nearby along with his shoes and socks. I can see his one good foot looking as white as the falling snow, horribly pale and dull next to the artificial skin tone of his prosthetic one. He's desperately gulping for air and his fists are clenched so tight that his fingers are white. For a moment I'm too stunned to move as I take in the horrible scene in front of me. It isn't until I see the Peacekeeper raise his whip and see a new streak of red form across Peeta's shoulders that I regain movement in my limbs.

"No!" I shriek as I run towards Peeta. "Stop!"

The Peacekeeper is already in mid-swing as I reach Peeta and I quickly spread my arms out in an attempt to shield him from further harm, right as the end of the whip snakes across the left side of my face. The pain is instantly blinding and I fall to my knees next to Peeta, barely managing to keep from tripping over his exposed feet.

Peeta somehow manages to look over at me. "Katniss!" My name sounds like it's being ripped from his chest. "Katniss, go!"

My eye begins to swell and tear and I can no longer see through it, but I manage to get back up to my feet and stand in front of him. "Stop it! You'll kill him!" I yell, wincing against the pain in my cheek.

The Peacekeeper stops to glare at me. "Get out of there girl!" he growls, raising his hand holding the whip. "Or next time I won't try to pull back!"

"Wait a minute!" a voice says from the side. Haymitch appears seemingly out of nowhere and shoves me behind him. "Oh great," he says, looking at my face. "Don't you recognize her?" he asks, turning to face the Peacekeeper. The Peacekeeper just grunts in response.

"This is Katniss and Peeta? Darlings of the Capitol? Victors of the last Hunger Games? Star-Crossed lovers? They just got engaged? That's her fiancé you're flogging!" Haymitch gestures between Peeta and me. "She's supposed to have a photo shoot with wedding dresses next week. What am I supposed to tell her stylist now? You know the Capitol and their schedules!"

Recognition passes over the Peacekeeper's face but his eyes stay fierce. "She interrupted the punishment of a poacher!" he snarls, raising the handle of the whip in his hand and pointing to a squirrel nailed to the post above where Peeta's hands are tied. "I don't care who she is!"

Just then a gust of wind blows across the Square and Peeta groans loudly. I turn around to look at him, brushing his hair away from his clammy forehead as gently as I can. "It's okay Peeta, you'll be okay," I say, trying desperately to not let him hear the fear in my voice. Behind me I can still hear the voices of Haymitch and the Peacekeeper arguing loudly. Darius, a red-headed Peacekeeper who's a frequent customer of Greasy Sae's, comes over to try and talk with them, but the new Peacekeeper punches him hard in the face and he goes down like a rock.

"I'm here with you, you'll be okay," I whisper to Peeta, not bothering to hide the tears from falling and still gently stroking his forehead.

"Katniss," Peeta rasps in between gasping for breath. "Don't want to see you get hurt."

"Don't you worry about me," I tell him. "We're going to get you out of here. He's not going to hurt you anymore."

Finally I hear the Peacekeeper's booming voice ordering everyone back to their homes and see Haymitch coming towards us with a knife to cut the ropes holding Peeta's hands. I stand up to try to catch him as he slumps against the post, his strength completely gone. Several men approach us with a long board; the former countertop of the man who sold the buttons and shoelaces in the Hob. Peeta's father and both brothers are there and help me place Peeta gently onto the board.

"We need to get him to your mother, Sweetheart," Haymitch says grimly, pausing to take a quick swig from his flask before taking his place alongside the makeshift stretcher.

I brush my fingers across Peeta's forehead again before quickly gathering up his clothes and shoes. Gale has joined Peeta's dad, brothers and Haymitch to help carry him and we make our way quickly out of the Square towards Victor's Village. I let out another sob as the wind gusts again, causing Peeta to moan and his hands to twitch. I rush forward to stroke his forehead and try to soothe him.

"Stay still Peeta," I say, trying to sound as comforting as possible. "We're almost home. My mother will fix you up and you'll be just fine."

As we approach Victor's Village the snow has completely covered the road and I can see that the only lights are coming from my old house. I run my hand over Peeta's hair before running ahead into my mother's house to warn her about what happened. It's been so long since anyone has been whipped in District 12 that she may not even have anything on hand to help Peeta. That thought makes my heart sink as I burst through the front door.

"Mom!" I scream, running into the kitchen and nearly crashing into her and Prim. "Mom please! Peeta, he's hurt so bad... You have to help him!"

My mother's eyes widen in alarm as she takes in my swollen cheek and she switches right into to healer mode, tilting my face to look at it expertly. I allow her to do it, using these few seconds to catch my breath before the men carrying Peeta burst through the front door. My mother immediately drops her hands from me and turns to clear off the large kitchen table, instructing the men to move Peeta from the board onto the table.

"Please be careful!" I cry, moving over to Peeta and running my hand through his hair, trying to soothe him so he'll stop trying to move. His anguished cries of pain are ripping my heart to pieces.

I lean down to whisper into his ear. "You're going to be okay Peeta, I'm right here and you'll be okay." I keep my hand running through his hair until Rye brings me a chair and I sink down into it, grabbing Peeta's hand and trying to stay out of my mom's way. Prim brings a warm cloth to clean off my cheek, quickly applying some kind of ointment to the cut before moving back around to start assisting our mother.

I'm filled with awe, as I always am, as I see my mother transform from a woman who calls me over to kill a spider to a woman who knows exactly what to do. I watch in amazement as she hands Prim an armload of bandages and starts barking orders to the men filling the room.

"New Head Peacekeeper," Haymitch says grimly, shaking his head. "Not entirely peaceful."

Mom barely acknowledges that she's heard him she's so focused on the mess that is Peeta's back. I can see her rifling through the kitchen cabinets, pulling out bottles of herbs and mixing them into a basin filled with warm water. "Here Rye," she commands, holding out two steaming pillowcases and briefly shaking them to cool them off. "Take these and wrap them around Peeta's foot and ankle."

Rye snaps right to attention and obeys. But as he wraps the warm cloth around Peeta's frozen foot Peeta cries out in pain and starts thrashing again.

"We need to keep him still so I can get the wounds set!" my mother barks out, her hands now moving expertly over his mangled back. Peeta's father steps over to try to hold him down as I start whispering in his ear.

"Peeta please, try to hold still, we're trying to help you, but you have to try and hold still." I lean over to kiss his cheek and stroke his hand that I'm holding. He squeezes my hand so hard that it feels like he might break my fingers. "Mom please, he needs some medicine for the pain!" I beg her. I don't know how much longer I can listen to his suffering without screaming.

"We don't have anything that won't make the bleeding worse right now, Katniss," my mother replies tersely, not looking up from her work.

I try and stifle a sob at the unfairness of it. The side of my face with its single lash mark feels like it's on fire. I can't imagine what Peeta feels like right now. "Hey, hey, hey. Hey, Peeta" I say, trying to sound as soothing as I can. "Just listen to me. Try to concentrate on my voice. I love you," I murmur into his ear, kissing his cheek over and over. "I love you, and I wish I could take all your pain away right now." Tears start pouring from my eyes as his anguished cries get a little softer. "We're all trying to help you, but you have to try to keep as still as you can, okay?"

I turn away to sniff and Prim presses a handkerchief into my hand. I wipe my nose quickly and turn back to Peeta. "Please Peeta, just try to keep still." I start humming an old folk song softly, so only he can hear it. He squeezes my hand again, but his erratic movements finally slow down and Mr. Mellark is able to remove his hands from Peeta's hips.

Even in her expert hands, it takes a long time to clean the wounds, arrange what shredded skin can be saved, and apply an herbal salve under a light bandage. As the blood is cleared out, I can see where every stroke of the whip landed and I feel it resonate in the single lash on my cheek. Peeta's hand is still clutching my own to the point of pain but I hardly notice it and surely don't care. I can't remember a time when I've felt more helpless.

A loud knock at the door makes me jump. Gale jumps up to answer it and I can see him talking and gesturing to someone outside. He returns holding a vial containing an amber liquid. "Madge brought this by, she said it was a gift from her mother?" he says, passing the vial over to my mom. At the mention of Madge's name Rye runs out of the kitchen towards the front door to try and catch her.

Mom eyes the vial closely and instructs Prim to find a syringe. "It's morphling," she says, nodding at me. "It's from the Capitol and will help with the pain without causing more bleeding."

I nearly sob with relief, wishing I could thank Madge in person. Instead I start running my hand through Peeta's hair again. "We have some medicine for you now," I murmur into his ear, kissing his cheek lightly.

My mother moves to Peeta's arm and injects the morphling, instructing me to massage the injection site with my thumb when she's done. "It'll help distribute the medicine throughout his body faster, Katniss," she says. I obediently massage Peeta's arm and within five minutes or so his whole body relaxes and he seems to pass out. Sighing deeply, I look up at Peeta's dad.

"I think he's asleep now," I say, starting to feel exhaustion creeping through my body. I kiss Peeta's cheek again and rest my forehead on the table, taking a couple of deep breaths.

"I think I'm going to go now, Katniss," Gale says, shrugging into his jacket just as Rye comes back into the kitchen. "The snow is piling up and I need to get back to my family."

I nod quickly. "Thank you." He nods and turns to leave.

Haymitch stands up to follow him. "I'm going to head out too," he says, squeezing my shoulder briefly and shaking hands with Peeta's dad before heading out into the blizzard.

Peeta's dad and Rye have made no move to leave. I know Peeta's brother Bannock has gone home to his own wife, but the absence of Mrs. Mellark has never been more apparent. What kind of mother could stand and watch her youngest son be publicly flogged and do absolutely nothing? The thought makes me scowl as I look back up to Mr. Mellark.

"What happened?" I ask him. "Peeta doesn't really know how to hunt, and he certainly wasn't in the forest today. How did this happen?" There's a note of rising hysteria in my voice and I take a couple of deep breaths to calm myself.

Mr. Mellark steps forward a little and rests his large hand on his youngest son's head before speaking. "That new Head Peacekeeper, Thread I think his name is, came storming into the bakery this afternoon, saying that someone had seen us trading for squirrels at the back door. Sure enough, he walked right into the cooler where I had stored the ones Rye brought home last night. Peeta was there decorating a cake and announced that the squirrels were his. He didn't even hesitate..." he broke off as tears filled his eyes. "I don't know if Peeta thought Thread would show him leniency since he was a Victor or not, but Thread didn't seem to care."

Dread fills my heart as I process his words. This is all President Snow's doing. Tears start to flow freely from my eyes again. "He warned us. President Snow warned us that something horrible would happen." I look back down at Peeta sleeping on the table. "He didn't like our stunt with the berries in the Games, and he blames us for the problems going on in the districts."

I feel Mr. Mellark pat the top of my head. "No one blames you for what you did," he says. "And I certainly don't blame you for this." His kind words do nothing to stop the tears streaming down my face. If anything they make me cry harder, and he kneels down to give me a hug. "Peeta will be okay, Katniss," he says, stroking my hair. "He's in the best possible hands here with you and your mother." I nod against his strong chest and sniff loudly, very thankful for his comfort.

"Okay Katniss, that's all I can do for him right now," my mother states, stepping back from the table and gathering up the extra bandages and herb bottles. "Why don't you try and get some sleep while I sit with Peeta for a while."

I shake my head vigorously. "No, I need to stay with him. You just tell me what to do if he wakes up and go on to bed."

She only hesitates for a couple of seconds before moving to draw up another morphling dose into the syringe. "You can give him this in about 3 hours, or when he wakes up," she instructs, handing me the syringe. "Inject it into his other arm and make sure to rub his arm again to help the medicine distribute faster." I nod and watch her leave. She returns for a moment to drape a blanket across my shoulders and another across Peeta's legs, and then heads upstairs to her room.

Mr. Mellark and Rye are still in the kitchen looking uncomfortable, with Rye trying to stifle a yawn. I try to smile up at them. "Is Madge okay?"

Rye nods. "Yeah. She asked if she should stay and help but I sent her back to her father's house," he says grimly. "I figured it was the safest place for her right now."

"That's good," I reply. "It's storming too hard for you both to walk back to the bakery now. Why don't you just use the extra bedroom here tonight?" I point in the general direction of the downstairs bedroom off of the kitchen. Mr. Mellark pats me on the shoulder and nods, his footsteps heavy as he walks away. Rye steps forward to gently ruffle Peeta's hair before turning around to follow his father.

The soft light of the fireplace illuminates Peeta's hair, making it look more strawberry blond in color. I kiss his forehead again and lay my head down on our joined hands, not expecting to fall asleep. Instead, I startle awake when I feel Peeta's fingers on my cheek, stroking it with feather light touches right below the lash mark.

"You're hurt?" he whispers, trying to lift my chin to get a better look.

"Shh, don't worry about me! Just worry about yourself right now for once." Of all the times for him to be worrying about me. I feel my heart will burst for how much I love this amazingly selfless and kind boy.

"Are you in a lot of pain?" He tries to shake his head, but his blue eyes can't lie and are filled with pain. "Now's not the time to be brave," I say, moving to get the morphling syringe.

"Wait!" he rasps. He slowly snakes his hand behind my neck and brings my head closer so he can kiss me. His lips are chapped but warm and I can feel his body shuddering on the table. We break apart and I see the hint of a smile on his lips. "That's better than any medicine from the Capitol," he jokes.

I can't help but smile as I inject the morphling into his arm, massaging it in and watching him relax as it eases his pain. Just like in the arena, Peeta can still manage to make me smile in the most desperate of circumstances.

The next time my eyes open I'm surprised to find myself not in the kitchen anymore. It takes me a minute to figure out that I'm now on the couch in the living room, covered with a blanket. I stand up too quickly and nearly trip over the blanket that's wrapped itself around my feet. Still a little light-headed, I stumble into the kitchen to find Peeta's father and brother helping my mother remove the bandages from Peeta's back. I can see Peeta's knuckles turning white as he grips the edge of the table so I move quickly to his side and slide my fingers underneath his hand. He clings to it tightly and whimpers as Rye removes a particularly stubborn bandage that has stuck to one of his wounds.

My mom picks up a large bowl and starts stirring what looks to be like snow with a greenish tinge. I startle as Prim bursts through the front door carrying another bowl filled with snow.

"Katniss," Mom commands. "Help Mr. Mellark spread this clean cloth over Peeta's back."

Obediently I grab one end of the linen cloth and spread it as lightly as I can to cover the lash marks, still looking angry and red against Peeta's pale skin. Mom immediately covers the cloth with the tinted snow, and I can see and hear Peeta's sigh of relief as his shoulders relax and his grip on my hand loosens slightly. She finishes piling the snow over the cloth and places another cloth on top. Stroking Peeta's hand, I lean down to brush his hair away from his forehead so I can kiss it.

"Why didn't you do this last night?" I demand of my mother, a little more forcefully than I mean.

Mom looks at me with sympathy in her eyes. "I had to wait until his wound tracks set a little and the bleeding stopped," she says. "He would have just kept bleeding if I'd done this last night."

I nod my head and sit back into my abandoned chair as Prim hands me a cloth filled with the green snow and pushes my hand up to my swollen cheek. The relief from the throbbing is instantaneous and I can only imagine how that sensation feels for Peeta. I hear a timer go off and Mr. Mellark moves towards the oven to retrieve a fresh loaf of bread. The wonderful smell makes my stomach rumble and I realize that it's been a long time since I've eaten anything.

"How is Peeta going to be able to eat or drink anything?" I ask my mom. I will not eat or drink anything in front of Peeta until I know he can have something too.

"After the snow coat has melted off, we will apply another one and he should be feeling much better," Mom replies, setting towels down around Peeta's sides to catch the melting snow. "He should be able to sit up enough to swallow by then if you don't mind feeding him. I don't want him moving his shoulders too much for a while."

I nod vigorously. "I don't mind at all," I assure her, holding my snow coat gently against my cheek with one hand and stroking Peeta's hand with the other.

I feel a tug on my fingers. "Katniss?" Peeta says in a raspy whisper. He slowly brings my fingers up to his lips to kiss them, holding them there for a long time. "Thank you," he whispers, tears welling up in his eyes. "Thank you for staying with me." The sincerity and brokenness in his voice is almost too much for my heart to handle.

"Oh my sweet Peeta," I say, trying not to let him see that I'm crying again. "Where else would I be?" He kisses my hand one more time. "I love you. I said I'd always take care of you and stay by your side, and I will," I say, kissing his forehead and resting my chin on the table. "Always."


	35. District Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some changes around the district.

PPOV

The next week passes in a haze of pain, drug-induced delirium, and embarrassment. The blizzard finally blows itself out, but not before more than three feet of snow is dropped on the district. With the howling wind blowing drifts as high as 10 feet and no real infrastructure for adequate snow removal, the streets and walkways remain pretty much impossible to navigate for several days. Rye and Katniss manage to slog through the snow across the street to our house to get some changes of clothes for us and for Rye and my father, but there's no way for them to make it back to the bakery for several days. The only lucky thing is that our monthly food shipment from the Capitol had arrived the day we got home from the Tour, so at least there's no danger yet of running out of food.

Katniss has barely left my side this whole time. She must be absolutely exhausted, but I haven't heard her complain once. The first few days Katniss slept in the kitchen on a chair, afraid to even be out of the same room as me for longer than a few minutes. I think she might have been worried that Thread would come looking for us again. I had to practically beg her to go sleep on the living room couch for a few hours on the fifth day as she adamantly refused to go upstairs to her old bedroom.

Mrs. Everdeen doesn't want me moving my arms a lot since a few of the deeper cuts near my shoulders needed stitches, so I can't feed myself, drink anything, or even pee without help. Katniss has been feeding me, bathing me, faithfully applying an herbal healing ointment to my wounds every few hours around the clock and applying the snow coats as directed by her mother. I've had to remind her to take care of her own wound while she takes care of mine. I can't imagine how anyone else could take better care of me, but my arms ache to hold her and this hard, wooden table is growing more and more uncomfortable to lie on as the days pass.

On day eight Mrs. Everdeen decides that I'm healed enough to move to the couch in the living room. It's much better than the kitchen table, but it's still not our bed, in our house.

"Mom says if your skin continues to look good that she'll be able to take out the stitches in a few more days," Katniss tells me, in between feeding me spoonfuls of soup. "Then we can go back to our house."

"I can't wait," I tell her. "I'm getting really tired of Rye's baking."

Rye and my father made it back to the bakery around day five, once they were able to make a path through the snow. The Square shops didn't open up again for two more days though and the coal mines have yet to be reopened. I can't imagine how the people of the Seam are faring right now, as no coal being mined means no money being earned and it's highly unlikely that any of those families had any extra food to ration during the blizzard.

Every evening Rye brings us some of the leftover bread and pastries from that day's baking. I insist that we pay him for them, and he accepts it only to avoid the wrath of our mother. Rye also keeps us up to date on what's happening around the district. Katniss and I both assumed that not much would happen during the blizzard, but we apparently were wrong. Rye tells us that the Square has been transformed. There's now a huge banner with the seal of Panem hanging off the roof of the Justice Building. Peacekeepers, now in brand-new white uniforms, march along the cobblestone sidewalks in formation, with more of them occupying the new watchtowers erected seemingly overnight. But the most unnerving changes are the new additions to the Square: an official whipping post, several stockades, and a gallows.

"That new Head Peacekeeper is a quick worker," Rye says grimly.

Even Haymitch is beside himself. The destruction of the Hob meant the interruption of his nearly constant supply of white liquor, and he's now almost depleted the back-up stock that Katniss and I had at our house. Katniss has had to watch him closely when he stops by to visit, as she caught him trying to steal a swig from her mother's bottle of rubbing alcohol the other day.

Finally, Mrs. Everdeen is able to take the stitches out of my shoulder lashes and I'm allowed to put on a shirt for the first time in almost two weeks. "I want you to keep the bandages on the shoulder wounds for a while though, so your shirt doesn't irritate the healing skin," she says to me. "The rest of the lash marks are scabbed over nicely, so just have Katniss apply some ointment on them a couple of times a day to prevent itching and you should be fine."

I nod. "Thank you for everything. I really hope to never have to do that again."

Mrs. Everdeen smiles. "Of course, Peeta. You were a very good patient."

Katniss helps me pull on a shirt, my fingers fumbling with the buttons. "Do you feel up to a quick walk?" she asks me. "You've been cooped up here for almost two weeks."

I get to my feet carefully. My right leg wobbles a bit from disuse but I ignore it. "Yeah, let's go. You must be going stir-crazy from being inside so much."

We see Haymitch almost as soon as we step outside, handing some money to a man carrying a snow shovel who Katniss recognizes as a friend of Gale's.

"Thom," she says as we reach them. "How are you?"

Thom looks down at the snow-covered ground. "Things have been better," he says. "With the mines shut down right now, if there wasn't snow that needed shoveling I'm not sure what we would do."

Katniss reaches into her pocket and pulls out several coins. "Here," she says, pressing them into Thom's hand. "Why don't you shovel the walkways in the Seam also? And get the rest of your mining crew to help?"

Thom stares at his hand holding the money, probably more than he's ever held in his hand in his life. "That's awfully kind of you, Katniss," he finally whispers, looking at us. "Thank you. Thank you both. It wasn't right about what happened to you, Mr. Peeta."

"Just call me Peeta," I insist. Thom nods at both of us and heads off towards the Seam.

Haymitch turns to us as Thom walks away. "How're you feeling, Boy?" he asks me.

I wish he'd find a better name for me than Boy. "Better now that I'm allowed to get up and move around a little," I reply. "Katniss is a wonderful nurse."

"Yeah, well, don't go doing anything like that again anytime soon," Haymitch grumbles. "It doesn't do anyone any good for you to go and get yourself in trouble like that."

"Better me than Katniss, or anyone else," I say to him. "That new Peacekeeper was out for blood that day." Haymitch shrugs. Katniss tightens her hold on my arm.

"I've managed to get the photo shoot for your wedding dresses pushed back a month or so," he says to Katniss. "So your cheek can fully heal. It's a good thing that Effie didn't ask for any details."

"Thank you Haymitch," she says. "How're you doing?"

"Effie's sending me some liquor on the next train," he says. "Which should arrive in a few days depending on the weather. Hopefully I'll be able to survive until then."

"It's probably good for you," Katniss says as he starts to meander back to his house. "Get you used to less alcohol."

"Who says that's good for me?" Haymitch scoffs as he enters his house, slamming the door shut.

The streets are almost deserted, which wouldn't be so unusual at this time of day if people were at the mines and kids were at school. But they're not. We can see faces peeking out at us through windows and out of doorways as we walk.

And we wanted to start an uprising, I think. Katniss squeezes my hand, probably thinking the same thing. An uprising requires defying authority, which Katniss has done pretty much her whole life, but for the majority of the people in District 12 even a trip to the Hob was too risky. And we were expecting them to assemble in the Square with bricks and torches? Even the sight of us walking is enough for some people to pull their children away from windows and draw the curtains tightly.

We make it to the bakery and make small talk with my father while Katniss picks out a few things. No one mentions the ugly tools of torture just yards from the bakery's front door. The last thing I notice as we leave the Square is that I don't recognize even one of the Peacekeepers' faces. The old standards like Cray and Darius are gone, never to be heard from again. The new stockade and whipping post in the Square sees plenty of use though, as people are dragged in and punished for crimes so long overlooked they'd forgotten they were illegal.

As the days pass things go from bad to worse. The mines stay closed for almost three weeks, and by that time half of District 12 is starving. The number of kids signing up for tesserae soars, but with the growing food shortage they don't often receive their grain. Katniss and I try to invite as many families as we can for meals at our house, sending them home again with as many leftovers as we can spare, as even the latest Parcel Day food packages arrive spoiled and defiled by rodents.

When the mines reopen the workers discover that while their wages have been cut, the work hours have been extended, and daily quotas increased so high that the workers have no choice but to mine in blatantly dangerous sites. Gale mentions nothing more about revolution when we see him, but I can't help but wonder if any of this has weakened his resolve to fight back. His mother has one of the few stable jobs in the Seam as Haymitch's housekeeper, but it's still not enough with the soaring food prices, causing Rory to have to sign up for tesserae.

My heart nearly stops the night that Katniss is out delivering some bread to the families in the Seam and two Peacekeepers show up at the house. She must have been pulled into conversation with someone as she doesn't come back for almost three hours. The whole time the Peacekeepers wait, refusing my offers of food and drink, standing there staring straight ahead. I'm nearly frantic by the time she comes back home, freezing cold and carrying a bag of peppermint candies. She stops short when she sees the two Peacekeepers standing in our living room.

"See, here she is, just in time for dinner," I say, which is an outright lie. We normally would have eaten dinner a long time ago. I move to give her a hug and she hisses suddenly, like she's in pain.

"Can I help you?" she asks the Peacekeepers, shaking snowflakes off of her shoulders and hair.

The woman Peacekeeper's face squints into a frown. "We've been waiting here for a few hours now, Miss Everdeen," she says. "May I ask where you've been?"

Katniss's eyes narrow. "I was visiting with my cousin's family, in the Seam," she says in a hard voice. "Then I stopped at the General Store to buy some peppermints for my fiancé."

"See?" I chime in. "I told you there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for her being out." The woman Peacekeeper frowns again, and the man just stands there emotionless.

"Head Peacekeeper Thread sent us with a message for you," she says, nearly spitting out the words.

"Yes?" Katniss says.

"He wanted us to tell you that the fence surrounding District 12 will now have electricity 24 hours a day."

"Didn't it already?" Katniss asks, almost like she's daring them, making my heart leap into my throat.

"He thought you might want to pass that information along to your cousins as well," the woman continues, her jaw tightening.

"Thank you, I'll let them know," Katniss says. "Please tell Peacekeeper Thread I appreciate his concern for the security of the District."

 _Watch it, Katniss._  I beg her with my mind. _Now isn't the time._

The woman exhales, obviously disappointed in the way this conversation has gone. She gives us a curt nod and heads for the door, the man trailing behind her. Finally when I've locked the door behind them I turn to her and gather her up in my arms, which causes her to yelp.

"What is it, love?" 

"I think I sprained my ankle," she says, looking up at me with her grey eyes filled with pain and embarrassment. "I, I slipped on some ice." But she gives me a knowing look, telling me otherwise.

"Fence?" I mouth the word to her silently. She just nods, slumping against me.

"All right, let's get you upstairs then," I say, scooping her up and bringing her up to our bed. She shows me how to wrap her ankle and after I prop her foot up on a couple of pillows I sit down next to her so we can eat dinner.

"Boy, aren't we a pair right now," I say, pointing to her wrapped foot and my prosthetic one. "We have one good set of legs between us."

She starts to laugh, just a little before it changes to sobbing. And I know why she's so upset. With the fence turned on there's no longer any way for her to hunt. The woods is more than just a source of food for her, it's also a place for her to escape and remember times spent with her father. She can't really be herself without her woods. I hold her while she cries, not saying anything as there's really nothing I can say that would help.

Mrs. Everdeen comes over the next morning to examine Katniss and orders a week of bed rest to allow her ankle to heal. I take the time to spoil her, stuffing her with cheese buns and hot chocolate and anything else she wants. Every day I carry her downstairs and we pass the time working on the plant book, playing chess, and reading aloud from one of the hundreds of books in the house. Madge and Rye visit a few times, bringing news from Town. We even turn on the TV every now and then. I'm able to get her to smile and even laugh a few times. We almost can forget about everything that's going on outside the house. Almost.

But Katniss about loses it a couple weeks later when the huge crate of wedding dresses arrives one evening, with a note from Effie saying that President Snow approved them himself. It's all I can do to keep her from running out of the house and towards the woods. She hasn't dared to enter the woods since we were told that the fence was to be kept electrified and I know it's eating away at her to not be able to help people, especially since the food shortages have continued and the last Parcel Day was cancelled. She kicks and shoves and screams at me to let her go as I struggle to keep my arms around her. Finally she collapses against me, sobbing.

"This is all my fault, Peeta!" she cries. "I did this, I caused all of this!"

"You did not!" I tell her firmly. "This is not your fault, none of it is your fault, and no one here blames you or me or anyone else here." I take her face into my hands. "Katniss, we didn't do this."

The intention behind my words is clear. Snow did this. Snow has caused all of these troubles and Snow is the only one to blame.

"I never meant for anything like this to happen," she sobs. "He has to know that! And I don't want this stupid Capitol wedding with these stupid Capitol dresses. I don't want to be a piece in their games!"

"I know, love. I know that, but it's probably best that we go along with it right now. Maybe it will help to calm things down, you know how much the people in the Capitol like us," I remind her.

She finally sobs herself to exhaustion and slumps against me. We sit on the floor of the living room for a while, clinging to each other.

"Let's go upstairs now, love," I finally whisper. "I'm going to run us a bath, and then we can go to sleep." I run my fingers gently over her cheek. "We will feel better tomorrow."

We make it up the stairs and into the bedroom. But as I go to move into the bathroom she grabs my hand. "Peeta," she whispers hoarsely. "Why do you stay with me? I'm so weak, and everyone I love seems to wind up getting hurt."

My heart nearly cleaves in two, both from her words and the expression on her face. She looks so defeated right now. "Why do you even have to ask me that?" I whisper as tears spring to my eyes. "I love you. You're my whole life. Katniss, without you I'd never be happy again. I'd just want to shrivel up and die." I bring her hand to my face and kiss her palm. "You're the strong one here, not me." I kiss her palm again. "Nobody really needs me."

A look of shock appears on her face. "I do," she says. "I need you. I couldn't survive without you now." And she takes my face in her hands and kisses me, a sensual, toe-curling kiss that ends with both of us gasping for air.

"Peeta," she whispers, her grey eyes now filled with love and desire. "Please stay with me."

"Always," I whisper back without hesitation, before lowering my lips back to hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! I hope you all have a very blessed 2017!


	36. The Third Quarter Quell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here comes the Quell announcement.

KPOV

The arrival of my prep team surprises us two weeks later. Not even giving Peeta and me time to answer the door, they burst into the house and run up the stairs to our room before we can even pull some clothes on.

"Surprise!" they squeal. "We're here, and we missed you! Your mom told us you were over here this morning."

Thank goodness Prim had the foresight to take the wedding dresses out of the box they came in and hang them up in our closet while my ankle was healing, because I've tried to put them out of my mind and haven't even tried them on.

They pull us out of bed, with Peeta escaping briefly into the bathroom to get dressed before they can get a glimpse of his back. After the usual histrionics about the deteriorated state of my beauty, which causes Peeta to frown severely enough to earn an apology from Octavia, they get right down to business.

"What happened to your cheek?" Flavius asks as he trims my hair. My mother did a remarkable job of healing my lash mark, as there's just a tiny strip of pale pink across my cheekbone now. Nothing like the deep marks still cross-crossing across Peeta's back and shoulders.

"I fell and cut it on some ice," I say, causing them to cluck over me in sympathy. "I hurt my ankle too."

"Oh, but I bet Peeta here took good care of you," Octavia says, wiggling her eyebrows and giggling.

I try hard to ignore them, already tired of their incessant prattling and dreading this photo shoot, when Octavia makes a remark that catches our attention. It's said in passing, but it tugs at both of us.

"It was my birthday," she says, "and I wanted to get some shrimp for the party, but none of the stores had any! And when I asked about it, they said they hadn't been able to get any for a few weeks! Apparently there's been really bad weather in District 4 for a while now."

My mind starts buzzing. No seafood from District 4 for a few weeks. The barely concealed rage we witnessed in the crowd during the Victory Tour. Peeta and I exchange a look. It appears that District 4 has revolted.

Peeta starts to ask them questions, innocent questions to them, trying to get a feel as to what might be going on in the other districts. The prep team members, being from the Capitol, aren't used to want, so any disruption in supply makes an impression. By the time they shoo Peeta out of the room to slip the first dress over my head, their complaints about the difficulty of getting products, from crabmeat to music chips to ribbons, has given us a sense of which districts might actually be rebelling. Seafood from Four, electronic gadgets from Three, and, of course, fabrics from Eight. The thought of such wide-spread rebellion has me quivering with fear and excitement.

Cinna appears to check my makeup before I can ask any more questions. His eyes go immediately to the scar on my cheek and he raises his eyebrows. Somehow I don't think he believes my story about slipping on the ice, but he doesn't question it. I highly doubt that it's common knowledge in the Capitol that one of their Star-Crossed lovers was flogged, most likely on Snow's order, but Cinna always seems to know what's going on around here somehow.

The photo shoot takes the entire morning and afternoon. They don't allow Peeta to see me in any of the dresses, saying it's bad luck, so Cinna fetches my mother to help me eat something in between dress fittings. Prim comes over in time to see the last two dresses. Both her and my mother are in good moods. Maybe their fears of me being punished for interfering with Peeta's whipping are finally being laid to rest.

Three days later Prim comes over after school to tell us that her teacher said there would be mandatory programming tonight. "I think it'll be your photo shoot!" she says excitedly.

"Why is that so exciting?" I ask her. "I much preferred my toasting dress to those huge and heavy Capitol gowns."

"They're still pretty, Katniss," she says chidingly. "I like pretty things."

Peeta and I invite Mom, Prim, and Haymitch over for dinner, and at 7:30 we're all sitting in front of the television when it clicks on. Sure enough, Prim was right. Caesar Flickerman appears, speaking before a standing-room only crowd in front of the Training Center about our upcoming wedding. He introduces Cinna to thunderous applause, and after a minute or so of good-natured chitchat, he directs our attention to a giant screen behind him.

"Let's get Katniss Everdeen to her wedding in style!" Caesar cries out once all the dresses have been shown. The audience members are invited to cast their votes for their favorite, the dress with the most votes being the one that I wear in our Capitol wedding.

"And don't go away viewers," Caesar says dramatically. "Stay tuned for a special announcement tonight! That's right! This year will be the 75th anniversary of the Hunger Games, and that means it's time for the third Quarter Quell!"

Peeta puts his arm around my shoulders as I squeeze closer to him. "What will they do?" Prim asks. "It isn't for months yet."

"It must be the reading of the card," Mom chimes in. Haymitch grunts in disgust and Peeta fiddles with my hair as President Snow takes the stage while the anthem plays.

President Snow explains that when the Hunger Games were laid out, every 25 years was to be marked by a Quarter Quell, to keep fresh in the minds of the districts those who were killed when the districts rebelled. He goes on to describe what went on in the previous Quarter Quells, the 25th and 50th Games.

In the 25th Games, the districts were forced to vote for the tributes to represent their districts. I can't imagine how that would have felt, having to pick the kids who had to go. I think it would be worse to be sent off to die by your own neighbors than to have your name drawn from the Reaping bowl.

For the 50th Games, four tributes were reaped from each district instead of the usual two. I also can't imagine facing a field of forty-seven instead of the usual twenty-three. Worse odds, less hope, more dead kids. My mother's friend and Madge's aunt, Maysilee Donner, died in the second Quarter Quell. That's also the year that Haymitch won.

"And now we honor the third Quarter Quell," the president continues. Snow removes a thick card from a wooden box. He opens the card and clears his throat.

"On the 75th anniversary of the Hunger Games, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, there will be one tribute reaped from each district. These tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of Hunger Games Victors. All current Victors are eligible for this reaping, regardless of age, gender, or status of health. There will be no volunteers, and there will be no mentors allowed. The reaping will be held on May 1st, with the Quell commencing on the fifteenth of May."

It's as if all the air has been stolen from my lungs. I can't think properly. My mind is a jumble, with shock being the only thing I can feel. Gasping for breath, I vaguely register the stunned cries from my mother and the question from Prim.

"What does he mean?" she says, looking wide-eyed at our mother. Peeta's arm freezes over my shoulders, his other hand grappling for mine to pull me closer.

"No," I whisper, turning to look at Peeta. Snow's words just keep repeating in my head. No volunteers. No mentors allowed.

"Katniss," Peeta says, his face ashen, his shining blue eyes trained on my face, his jaw hanging open in disbelief. He reaches to tuck a stray hair behind my ear.

"No!" I repeat, shaking my head, my voice rising hysterically. "No!! Don't let him take you! Peeta, don't let him take you from me!!" I grab onto the front of his shirt with shaking hands, as if I'm thinking if I hold onto him tightly enough, we won't be ripped apart from each other.

"Katniss," he whispers again. He shakes his head like he's trying to clear it, his hand going to touch my cheek. "No, I don't want to."

Tears start rolling down my cheeks as I look up at Haymitch, desperate for him to do or say something that will make it go away. But he just shakes his head sadly, his brow furrowed like he's in pain.

"I'm sorry, Sweetheart," he whispers. He seems to have aged ten years in the last two minutes.

"Haymitch, Snow was just taunting us!" I scream out. "This is what he had planned all along! He knows I can't live without Peeta!"

"Katniss," Peeta whispers, crushing me against him, my hands fisted so tightly in his shirt that I can feel my fingers digging into my palms. "I can't lose you! I can't!" I can feel the tears running down his cheeks as his arms shake around me. We stay locked together for what seems like an eternity, our tears of shock mingling together.

Somehow, Haymitch and my mother manage to get Peeta and I upstairs to our room. Haymitch pulls off Peeta's shoes and guides him into the bed as my mother wipes my face with a warm cloth, an act of comfort she used to do for me when I was upset over a skinned knee or a misplaced toy as a little girl. Except this time she doesn't tell me it will all be okay, because this time she knows that there's no way that she can make it better. I can feel her tears hitting my face as she looks down on me, the cloth wiping my own tears away.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers. I can't even find words to respond to her.

Incredibly, we manage to fall asleep, still clinging to each other. But our sleep is fitful and riddled with nightmares. I wake in the morning to Peeta bringing me my cup of tea and a cheese bun.

"I've decided," he says, his voice hard. "We're going to train. Like the Careers do. Because if it's you or me who's going back into the arena, then we're going to come out again. And I'm going to get Rye and Gale and anyone else who can possibly teach us something to help us."

I methodically take a bite of the cheese bun, taking my time chewing while I process what he's said.

"Do you really think we'd be able to win?" I finally say. "You don't think Snow would set some sort of trap for us?"

"I absolutely think that he will," he replies. "Even more reason why we should train. We need to be prepared for anything, because no matter which one of us is chosen, we're going to come home. I refuse to accept any other option."

He looks absolutely determined, convinced that this is the best thing to do. To face this problem head on. How different from my natural inclination which is always to run away and try to hide. But running and hiding won't do either of us any good this time. All it would do is prove what Snow said about the power of the Capitol always being stronger. Peeta is right, we have to fight.

I take a sip of the bitter tea, still not quite used to the taste after all this time, but on this morning I almost welcome the bitterness. It seems to fit the occasion.

"All right then," I say, trying to match just a bit of his determination. "When do we start?"

"Today," he says. "I've already talked to Haymitch. He nearly attacked me when he realized I'd dumped out all of his liquor, but he's agreed to train with us, and he knows most of the other Victors, so he can help us learn about their strengths and weaknesses."

So we agree to train like Careers. With the fence back to being off most of the time, we go into the woods and I teach Peeta and Haymitch how to shoot and climb trees. Peeta recruits Rye to help us with hand to hand combat. We even ask Gale to teach us about snares.

Every morning we do exercises to help strengthen our bodies, based on the warm up exercises that Peeta and Rye learned from wrestling. We run, lift weights, and stretch our muscles. Every afternoon we work on combat skills. Throwing knives, fighting hand to hand, and making weapons. Every evening after dinner we sit in front of the television, watching old recaps of the Games won by the remaining Victors, with Peeta taking detailed notes for us to go over later.

After all the years of abuse and neglect, Haymitch's body resists improvement. The shortest of runs completely winds him, and you'd think a guy who usually sleeps with a knife in his hand could hit the broadside of a house with one, but his hands shake so badly that it takes weeks for him to improve.

Peeta and I though excel under the new regimen. He was right, of course. This is giving us something to do besides accept defeat. My mother puts us on a special diet to help us gain muscle and replaces Peeta's shoe inserts as he wears them out. Prim compounds ointments and rubs to help soothe our sore muscles. Madge helps by sneaking us her father's Capitol newspapers. Rye helps us several days a week with sparring. Gale joins us on Sundays, setting aside any lingering dislike he has for Peeta to teach us all he knows about snares.

Madge and Rye approach us in the Meadow one evening during the first week of April as we're walking back to our house for dinner.

"Hey," Peeta says as they catch up to us, still breathing hard from the run we just finished.

"We have some news," Madge says. "Rye and I have decided to have our toasting on April 24th."

"You've decided not to wait until you're 18?" I say in surprise. Although, I'm not really surprised when I think about it.

"No," Rye says quietly, looking at Madge then back to us. "We want to make sure both of you are able to be there. You're the closest thing Madge has ever had to a sister, Katniss. And Peet..." Rye pauses. "Well, let's just say Peet's a pretty okay little brother."

I can't help but smile at that.

"We want to make sure that both of you can be there," Madge repeats. "And, we'd like Peeta to bake our cake and toasting bread."

Peeta and I look at each other, too choked up to respond at first. The implications behind what they are saying are impossible to ignore.

Finally, Peeta is able to find his voice. "We'd be honored to be there," he says. "And I'm especially honored to bake a cake and bread for you. But no matter which one of us is reaped, we will be coming home, so please don't move your wedding just on account of us."

Rye claps his hand on Peeta's shoulder. "It gives me a good excuse to marry her earlier though, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," Peeta responds. "Yeah, I suppose so." Then he turns to Madge. "So, what would you like on your cake?"

Madge moves to walk towards our house. "Let me cook dinner for you guys and we can talk about it," she says in her no-nonsense tone. "You go ahead and get cleaned up."

Madge and Rye end up staying for dinner and most of the evening, going over the designs they want for their wedding cake and some other general chitchat. They both are in great moods, which doesn't surprise me too much considering the reason for their visit. Peeta and I are even able to laugh along with them a little.

I've been surprised though at the mood in the district lately. Ever since the Quell announcement the feeling of overwhelming despair seems to have lifted from the district like a veil. The arrival of spring certainly helped, but there is a level of determination that is new. It's almost like the district is preparing to fight right along whichever one of us Victors is reaped.

I wonder if President Snow knows this. I also wonder if he knows that whatever he thinks he's trying to accomplish with the Quell, that it just might backfire on him. Because, like I learned that day in the rain when I was eleven, sometimes the most desperate of people just need someone to give them a little spark of hope.

And hope is always stronger than fear.


	37. The Quell Reaping

PPOV

The day of the reaping dawns hot and steamy, as if summer arrived overnight. I can tell Katniss is awake already even though she's trying to hide it. Neither of us want to say out loud what we both know is true. One of us is going to be reaped today.

Of course, theoretically Haymitch has as big of a chance of being reaped as Katniss or I do. He's just as much of a Victor as we are, but I'm convinced that President Snow has rigged the reaping to choose either Katniss or me since we're the ones he blames for the discontent in the districts. Haymitch is probably just an old drunk to him, but Katniss and I are instigators that need to be punished.

For the last couple of weeks Katniss and I have pretended, or tried to pretend, that one of us wasn't about to be shipped off to another fight to the death. We let up on our training a little. We ate our meals together, we went hunting, we baked, we visited our families and tried not to make it seem like we were visiting to say goodbye. I painted while she watched. Madge and Rye had their wedding and toasting, for which I baked their cake and bread. We tried as hard as we could to be as normal as possible, but it was always hanging over us. Taunting us. Reminding us that our lives were never really ours.

We spent most of last night making love, trying desperately to forget the impending doom arriving with the morning. After each time we would cling to each other, whispering soothing words and desperate promises, until the grief would become too much and we would start again.

Did I sleep at all? I don't know. Katniss finally succumbed to exhaustion around 3 or 4 am, but I seem to remember being in some halfway land between dreams and waking, knowing I should probably sleep but not wanting to close my eyes, for fear that Katniss might be snatched away from me before I could wake up.

I tighten my arm around her waist and pull her closer, if that's even possible. I don't know what's worse; the possibility that I will be reaped and torn away from her, or the possibility of her being reaped and me being forced to watch her in the arena, unable to be with her. I can feel my heart start to pound and my throat feels like it's closing up. It can't be her. I don't think I could bear to watch her in there without me to protect her.

Katniss stirs and rolls over in my arms, burying her face into my chest. I kiss the top of her head but say nothing.

"Not enough time," I hear her say, muffled up against my body. "We didn't have enough time. I wanted to take you back to the lake, and I wanted to finish the Plant Book, and I wanted to see Prim grow up and get married, and..." her voice trails off as I crush her to me.

"Shhh," I say, trying to sound more comforting than I feel. I wrack my brain for something else to say and come up empty. "The prep teams will be here soon," I say instead.

As if on cue there's a loud knock on the front door. At least they have the decency to wait a couple of minutes and not just barge into the house this time. Even so, we barely have enough time to get dressed before my prep team bursts into the room, followed closely by Octavia and Flavius. The sight of us together causes at least two of them to start to cry so hard they have to be ushered out.

"I'm sorry," Octavia says to me, tears streaming down her face as well. "They're...we're... all just so upset."

I nod. "We're going to be prepped together this morning," I say firmly, leaving no room for argument. Octavia blinks and nods.

Getting us ready proves a little difficult as Katniss refuses to let go of my hand for most of the process, but they manage to get us washed and dressed, surprisingly, in the clothes that we wore for our wedding and toasting. I'm not exactly sure what Cinna and Portia are thinking by doing this. Everyone in District 12 will recognize our clothes as toasting outfits. Are they trying to send some sort of message to the people?

There's food and tea spread out on the kitchen table when we come downstairs but neither of us are hungry, so we sit silently, holding hands, until Peacekeeper Thread arrives to escort us to the Square.

The Square is silent, with families standing together instead of the children being roped off by age this time. I know my family is in there somewhere, along with Mrs. Everdeen and Prim. There's a Peacekeeper every four feet or so, rifle in hand, facing the crowd as if they are daring someone to say something wrong or step out of line.

Haymitch is already there waiting in a small, roped-off U-shape when we arrive, having been prepped and escorted on his own. His eyes are narrow and his face impassive. He knows he's not the one in danger right now. Katniss's face is impassive too, but there's a tremble in her hand that's holding tightly to mine.

I hear Effie's footsteps clicking up the steps of the Justice Building, her metallic gold wig shining in the sunlight.

"Welcome, welcome," she begins, her voice lacking her usual pep. "Welcome to the reaping for the Third Quarter Quell. As you know, one previous Hunger Games Victor will be reaped this year for the honor of representing District 12 in the Quarter Quell." As she looks over to where we are standing, I think I see her eyes wet with tears.

Effie walks over to the round, glass reaping bowl containing only three slips of paper. She snags one and walks slowly back to the microphone. I start pleading in my head; please don't be Katniss, please don't let it be Katniss, please, please, please...

Effie takes a deep breath, opens the paper, and reads the name loud and clear.

"The name of the tribute from District 12 is..." and she pauses.

_Please not her, please not her, please not her._

"Katniss Everdeen."

I stumble backwards like I've been hit in the chest. _Please no. Not her._

 _No, no, no, no._ I feel like the wind's been knocked out of me.

"No!!"

I don't realize I'm screaming until I feel Katniss's hand on my cheek and her lips closing over mine before Peacekeeper Thread grabs her roughly by her shoulders and yanks her away from me. I'm barely able to catch her hand and squeeze it before it too is ripped away from me and she's marched up the concrete stairs.

"No!!" I scream again, and I feel Haymitch wrap his arms around me, pinning my arms down and trying to hold me in place, keeping me from running out of this pen and up those stairs to her. To my love, my wife, my Katniss, who I swore to always protect. Who I swore to always keep safe. Who I don't think I can live without.

"Let me go!" I scream, struggling against Haymitch who's trying desperately to hold onto me. "Take me instead!! She's my wife, you can't have her!!"

All of a sudden my vision goes black for a second as a Peacekeeper hits me on the back of my head with the butt of his rifle. The blow knocks me hard onto my knees, with Haymitch falling down beside me.

"No, this can't be happening. It was supposed to be me!" I say, tears starting to flow freely down my face. "It was supposed to be me!"

"You can't do anything about it right now, Boy," Haymitch rasps to me. "And if you want to get out of here alive you'll stop making a scene." There's now four Peacekeepers surrounding us, their rifles pointing right at me, almost daring me to make another wrong move.

I look up and can barely make out the crowd giving Katniss the traditional District 12 three-fingered salute. Then Thread takes her by the shoulders again and turns her towards the Justice Building.

"I get to say goodbye!" I hear Katniss say.

"New procedure, we're going straight to the train," I hear Thread respond in his horrible, gruff voice.

"Katniss!!" I hear Prim calling from the crowd. She sounds almost as desperate as me.

"Katniss!! I love you!!" I yell out through my tears. There's barely enough time for her to turn around and mouth the words back to me before the door closes behind her.

I'm not sure how long I've remained here, beaten down to my knees by the physical blow from the Peacekeeper and the emotional blow of watching my love being forcibly taken from me. I'm only vaguely aware of the Square slowly emptying around me, the Peacekeepers urging everyone back to their homes with their rifles and harsh words. Haymitch finally lets go of me when the Peacekeeper who hit me orders him back to his house. I feel the barrel of the Peacekeeper's rifle poking me in the back.

"Go on back to your home now," he says gruffly. "The reaping is over."

I stare up at him, my eyes still swimming with tears. How can he order me to just go home, like nothing has happened? When he knows my Katniss won't be there with me?

"We'll take him home," I hear a voice say behind me.

I look over to see Rye and Madge stop next to me, both of them carrying rucksacks. "Peeta invited us to stay with him for a while, so we'll make sure he gets home okay."

The Peacekeeper finally nods and backs up. Rye grabs me under my arm and helps me up to my feet.

"C'mon Peeta," he says quietly. "Let's get you home."

Numbly I allow Rye to guide me back to our house. We get inside and he pushes me onto the couch, pulling my shoes off. "You don't have to stay here," I finally say. "It's too much trouble. You have to be at the bakery."

"The bakery's closed for the rest of the day," he says firmly. "And too bad, but until Katniss comes home you're going to be stuck with us. Madge and I aren't going to leave you alone. We can help you get through this."

I stare at him again, and he stares right back at me. "Why?" I finally say.

His face hardens. "Because," he says. "Because you're my brother. And because no one should have to go through this again, you least of all."

"What about Mrs. Everdeen? And Prim?" I ask. "Who's going to take care of them?"

"Gale told me that Rory was going to check on them a few times a day, make sure they are doing okay," he replies. "And Hazelle will be at Haymitch's house every day too like she usually is, so she'll be nearby. Don't worry about them, Peet. They're being looked after. I'm only concerned about you right now."

And it's all I can do to not break down sobbing again.

"Okay," I finally whisper. "Okay."

Rye nods. "Okay then, that's settled. Now tell me which room Madge and I can stay in and I'll go unpack while she gets us something to eat."

"The second door on the left upstairs should work for you guys," I say quietly. "There's a bathroom in there too."

"Sounds great," Rye says, pulling both of their rucksacks over his shoulders and heading up the stairs. I can hear his clomping footsteps against the ceiling as he unpacks. Is that what I sound like when I walk? No wonder Katniss can hear me coming a mile away.

Madge is able to coax some bread and fruit into me at lunchtime, and afterwards I try to paint for a while, but I find myself just staring at the empty canvas. The only image I can conjure right now is of Katniss's hand being ripped away from mine, but it's still too painful for me to paint it.

That night, as I methodically get ready for bed, I sit down to detach my prosthetic and my gaze falls on the little clay jar of my leg cream sitting on the bedside table. Every single day, no matter where we were or what else was going on, Katniss has rubbed that cream into my leg, helping to keep my skin healthy and ease the soreness that comes from having a prosthetic limb. Every single day since her mother first made it for me. But tonight she can't, because she's already halfway to the Capitol by now.

Tears are welling in my eyes as I reach for the jar, scooping a little of the cream into my hand and rubbing the end of my stump. My fingers don't work nearly as well as hers though, and once I'm done my leg doesn't feel any better at all.

"I can't do this," I whisper to myself. "I can't do this without you." I look around the room. Her hairbrush is still sitting on the dresser, waiting for me to brush out her hair. Through the partially open closet door I can see her father's hunting jacket hanging on a hook. Even the room still smells like her hair, that almost intoxicating combination of pine and lavender and vanilla. I start to inhale deeply, trying to breathe it in as much as possible, but after a few breaths it almost seems like the scent is choking me and I start gasping.

"I can't, I can't!" I gasp out, my breaths coming faster and faster with my heart thumping in my chest and then I'm doubled over with the room spinning around me. The last thing I remember before everything goes black is hitting the wood floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had some ideas on how I could extend this story into Mockingjay. Would you guys be interested in that? Let me know what you think! :)


	38. The Tribute Parade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tribute parade and training.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter changes POV part of the way through. I thought it would be interesting to hear from Rye for a bit. :)

RPOV

My heart nearly stopped when I found Peeta lying motionless on his bedroom floor that first night after the reaping, a clay jar of ointment clutched in his hand. I calmed down a little when I realized he was just passed out and not dead, and he came to as I hauled him up into a sitting position.

"I can't sleep in here," he whispered, rubbing his hand up and down his face. "I can't sleep in here without her."

"All right," I told him. "We'll move you downstairs then. Just until she comes home." He nodded, seemingly still a bit dazed.

"Until she comes home," he repeated.

He's been sleeping in the extra downstairs bedroom ever since. If you count screaming out in terror or wandering around the house aimlessly for half the night, sleeping. He refuses to take his prosthetic leg off now, even to sleep. I've had to call Mrs. Everdeen over here a couple of times already to rub some kind of ointment into his skin as it's getting all red and sore looking, but he doesn't seem to notice. It's almost like he welcomes the pain and discomfort.

Madge and I have managed to distract him most of the times the TV has clicked on with updates on the Quell. There's been footage of the Victor/tributes arriving at the Capitol, news stories on the betting lines on who's going to win, and recaps of the reapings in the various districts. They've also been replaying a lot of the Games won by the various Quell tributes, but that hasn't been mandatory viewing, so at least Peeta hasn't had to watch his old Games. So far we've managed to avoid him having another complete breakdown but it's been close a few times. Mrs. Everdeen told us if he gets to breathing that hard and fast again to have him breathe into a bakery bag for a minute to help calm him down. It sounded ridiculous when she told us that, but we've had to do it a couple of times now and it's worked both times, so she definitely knows what she's talking about.

I've still been working at the bakery every day. Dad has graciously let me switch to the late shifts so I can be here in the morning when Madge is at school. Since the Quell is starting earlier in the year than a regular Games, the school is running up until the day that the Quell begins. Madge comes back around 2 pm and I leave for the bakery around 11 am, so we've been having Hazelle come and check in on Peeta during the times when neither of us are here. I've made sure to keep Mrs. Everdeen and Prim well stocked in bread and other baked goods, using Peeta's ingredients for those since he's all but stopped baking himself. The only thing he seems to want to do is paint. He's been spending hours and hours up in his painting studio, so much that we've already had to order more supplies for him.

I can't help but worry about him. He's been like a small child. Madge and I have had to make sure he eats and bathes, we've had to tell him when to go to sleep and when to wake up. Katniss has only been gone a few days. If he's this bad before the Quell even starts, I'm not sure how he's going to stand actually watching it. The Tribute Parade is tonight, so I guess we'll start to find out.

 

KPOV

I stand staring straight ahead as Cinna puts the finishing touches on my parade outfit. The costume looks deceptively simple at first, just a fitted black jumpsuit that covers me from the neck down. My face is heavily made up, with high arching eyebrows, sharp cheekbones, smoldering eyes, and deep purple lips. He winks at me before pressing a button on the sleeve just inside the fabric on my wrist, and the jumpsuit slowly comes to life, gradually transforming from a soft, golden light to the orange-red of burning coal. I look like I've been coated in glowing embers from our fireplace.

Cinna turns me towards a mirror. "What do you think?"

"I think, this is just what I needed to face the others," I tell him.

"Yes, I think your days of pink lipstick and ribbons are behind you," says Cinna. "When you're on the chariot this time, no waving or smiling. I want you to look straight ahead, as if this whole thing is beneath you."

I nod. "I think I can try that."

I can act like this whole thing is beneath me, but it's unlikely that it will be believable. I'm not that good of an actress, and anyone who has ever seen me with Peeta will likely know that my heart is aching being away from him. I can't think about him being knocked to his knees by that Peacekeeper at the reaping without wanting to cry, and I really can't imagine how he is faring right now, having to be at home and not knowing what is going on with me until there's an update on the television.

I remember pulling Rye aside at his and Madge's wedding and asking him to look after Peeta if I was the one who was reaped. "He'll need someone to make sure he's taking care of himself," I said to Rye. "He won't say anything though, because he still doesn't think he's worth worrying about, so you have to promise me that you'll look after him."

"Madge and I have already talked about this," Rye replied. "We've decided that we're just going to move into the house if you get reaped. That way one of us can always keep an eye on him. As long as that's okay with you," he added sheepishly. "I wasn't planning on asking Peet if it was okay with him, we're just going to insist on it."

"Oh thank you!" I whispered, throwing my arms around him for a quick hug. "That's perfect. You know, you really are almost as sweet as Peeta."

"Ah," he said, his ears reddening. "I think Peet rubbed off on me. There's no way I could've gotten Madge to marry me otherwise."

I've barely said a word to anyone since Peacekeeper Thread forced me into the Justice Building to be transported to the train bound for the Capitol, my goodbyes dying on my lips as the door slammed shut and locked in front of me. I'd barely had time to feel Peeta's hand around my own one more time before I was torn away from him, his cries of anguish and disbelief tearing my heart into tiny little pieces. I'm not sure how we could have stood saying goodbye to each other, so maybe that part was for the best.

Effie and Cinna are the only other people staying here with me in the penthouse, and I haven't really seen either one of them that much, except for meals. It's strange how quiet it is without Haymitch and Peeta's bantering back and forth and Effie's clucking over everything in her wigs and high heels.

Oh, and I've realized what happened to Darius. After he tried to intervene that horrible day when Peeta was whipped he apparently was arrested and transported to the Capitol to become an Avox. He's the one who served our dinner last night. I even thought I saw tears in his eyes when he looked at me, but right then Effie dismissed him and I couldn't decide if it had been real or if I had only imagined it.

Effie insisted that we watch a recap of the reapings on the train ride here. "You need to know who you'll be up against," she had said, her voice quiet.

Since then, I've seen a few of them around the Tribute Center. There's Cashmere from District 1, who volunteered and won the year after her brother Gloss. She's blonde and blue-eyed and busty. And brutal, from what I've heard and seen. There's Brutus from District 2, who must be at least forty years old by now and apparently can't wait to get back into the arena. And Beetee Laiter from District 3, who's a tech geek from what I remember Haymitch saying, and won his Games by electrocuting a bunch of tributes all at the same time. He looks older and a little paunchy with thick glasses.

Finnick Odair is the District 4 tribute. I'm actually quite surprised he was picked, having no doubt that these reapings were rigged and given how popular Finnick is in the Capitol. Maybe that's the problem, he'd gotten too popular for his own good. He won 10 years ago when he was just fourteen years old, the youngest Victor ever. Bronze-haired and green-eyed and deadly with weapons, Finnick is someone I'll have to watch out for.

Johanna Mason is the chosen tribute from District 7, their only living female Victor. She won her Games by pretending to be weak and helpless until the field had been narrowed to only a few remaining tributes. Then she grabbed an axe and turned deadly. She's another one I'll have to watch carefully.

A woman from District 8 who Effie called Cecelia, who looks to be around thirty, had to detach herself from the three small children who ran up to her at her reaping. Chaff, a man from Eleven who I know to be a good friend of Haymitch's. He's missing a hand, and apparently refused the Capitol's offer of a prosthetic after his Games.

Then there's me. Not surprisingly, the part where the Peacekeeper hit Peeta in the back of the head didn't make it into the final footage, but it was impossible to edit out all of his cries of disbelief and the broken looks on both of our faces.

Cinna has a few other things to take care of, so I decide to head downstairs to the ground floor of the Remake Center, which houses the huge gathering place for the tributes and their chariots before the opening ceremonies. Unlike last year, when all the tributes were glued to their chariots, the scene here is very social. All of these tributes know each other. Everyone except me, and I'm not really the best at socializing. That's more Peeta's strength than mine.

I'm standing next to my chariot talking to the horse when Finnick saunters over to me. He pops a sugar cube into his mouth and leans against the chariot, eyeing me up and down.

"Hello, Katniss," he says, as if we've known each other for years, when in fact we only met once before on our Victory Tour.

"Hello Finnick," I say, trying to match his casual tone, when I'm actually feeling very uncomfortable at how close he is to me.

"Want a sugar cube?" he asks, showing me his hand piled high. "They're supposed to be for the horses, but let's face it. They've got years to eat sugar, whereas you and I, well, if we see something sweet we better grab it quick."

_I did have something sweet, and I was torn away from him._

I can't argue that Finnick isn't one of the most stunningly sensuous people on the planet, but I can honestly say that he's never been attractive to me. Where Peeta's boyish good looks and sweet charm are some of the reasons why I find him so amazingly beautiful, Finnick is all man, complete with a healthy dose of swagger. He's almost too pretty.

"No thanks," I say to the sugar. "I'd love to borrow that outfit sometime though."

Finnick scoffs, as he's dressed in a strategically knotted something that resembles a fishnet, covering just enough for him to not be technically naked.

"You look absolutely terrifying in that getup," he says. "What happened to the pretty little girl dresses?"

"I outgrew them," I say firmly, glaring at him through my heavy mascara.

Finnick stares at me for a few seconds then moves closer, leaning his head over to whisper in my ear. "How are you doing, really? Without Peeta here with you? You must miss him."

Something in his tone, like he's insinuating something mean or untrue about Peeta, infuriates me and I snap my head back and raise my hand as if to slap him. Only the realization that we're probably being filmed somewhere causes me to stop. "Don't you dare mention his name to me!" I hiss at Finnick, trying hard not to let the tears fall and ruin my makeup. "Don't you dare mention him right now trying to make me look weak!"

Finnick looks at me, his expression unreadable. "All right, girl on fire. All right." He leans in closer again. "Just remember, not everything in the Capitol is exactly how it appears." Then he tosses one of his sugar cubes in the air, catches it in his mouth, and walks away.

 _Damnit Finnick trying to rattle me,_ I think as I stroke the mane of my horse, trying to compose myself and wishing desperately that Peeta was here to hold my hand again. The last thing I need is for President Snow seeing me looking anything but stoic right now. And where have I heard that bit before about the Capitol?

"Tributes mount up! Tributes mount up!" an announcer is heard booming throughout the chariot area. I climb quickly up into my chariot and reach inside my sleeve for the button to turn on my costume. As I begin to glow, I can see people pointing at me and chattering, and I know that just like last year, I'll be the talk of the opening ceremonies.

The voice of the crowd rises into one universal scream as I roll into the fading evening light, surrounded on both sides with hundreds of huge drums beating. I don't react, simply fixing my eyes on a point far in the distance and try to pretend that there's no audience, no hysteria, no absolute loneliness at being here by myself. I catch brief glimpses of myself on the huge screens along the route. I look dark. Powerful. Unforgiving.

As I curve around into the loop of the City Circle, I can feel the eyes of the other tributes on me, just like last year. The tribute from District 6, a known morphling addict, seems especially riveted. Even President Snow, when he begins his customary speech welcoming the tributes, has his eyes fixated on me.

The next few days are spent training, if you can call it that. Three of the tributes don't even bother to show up, and a few others just spend the training time talking. I move automatically from station to station, trying to concentrate on things I need to practice on rather than spend the time shooting, which is what I'd rather be doing. I learn how make fish hooks and knots and practice my fire-starting. Cecelia from District 8 tells me a little about her kids at the station for knot-tying, while demonstrating to me how to braid vines into a strong rope. Beetee from District 3 strikes up a conversation with me about the new force field protecting the Gamemakers up in their balcony, presumably to avoid another incident like last year when I shot the arrow up at them. I can see Plutarch Heavensbee up there, watching the tributes intently but completely avoiding eye contact with me. The rest of the Gamemakers seem more preoccupied with their food and drink than paying any attention to the tributes.

Finally it's time for our evaluations. I wrack my brain all night before the evaluations, trying to decide what to perform without getting too high of a score. With these Victor/tributes, a high score would just put a huge target on my back and put me immediately on the defensive in the arena.

But as l sit here in the little room off of the evaluation area watching all of these people chattering nervously to each other, my aura of invincibility that I've been trying to project starts to crumble. Most of these people are really a lot like Peeta and me. They won their Games, either by chance or by force, but they won nonetheless and then thought they would be left alone to pick up the pieces of their lives, only to be thrust into the arena once again. Right now I don't know if I can actually kill them. But I made Peeta a promise. The night before the reaping, we promised each other that whichever one of us was reaped, we would try as hard as we could to return home. I promised him I would try my best. How am I going to do that if I can't find it in myself to actually kill these people?

When they finally call my name, I end up not showing off my skills at making fish hooks or braiding ropes or shooting arrows. What I end up doing is taking a nearby Peacekeeper uniform and painting it with my fingers to look like Seneca Crane. And then I demonstrate my knot-tying skills and hang him. I want these Gamemakers to know that even their lives are potentially dispensable, and again, like last year, I've managed to stun them silent.

And most likely just put a huge target on my back with my awarded score of twelve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of the kind reviews! I'll probably end this story around the same time as Catching Fire ends, then start a new one for Mockingjay. :)


	39. A Couple of Bombshells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's interview night.

PPOV

"Here Peeta," Madge says as she hands me a steaming mug of tea. "Mrs. Everdeen says that you should drink this. It'll help calm you."

I take the mug wordlessly. There's no point in arguing. Madge is one of the most stubborn people I've ever met, almost even more so than Katniss, which is really saying something. It's not worth wasting what little energy I have arguing with her. I take a sip and immediately wrinkle my nose. There's sugar in the tea. I don't like sugar in my tea. Katniss knows that. Apparently Madge doesn't.

"Leave out the sugar next time, okay?" I say tersely. I see Rye purse his lips but he doesn't respond. It's just as well. The last time he tried to tell me off for being rude I almost punched him in the face. He managed to duck only just in time.

The tribute interviews are tonight, which are mandatory viewing, and I don't think any amount of distraction or tea is going to help me this time. Interviews tonight means the Quell starts tomorrow.

They've tried all sorts of ways to distract me. Rye says if I keep busy I won't dwell on how sad and angry I am. I say he can say that, since his wife is here with him and not thousands of miles away getting prepared to fight to her death. Again. I know they mean well, but like Katniss and I used to tell Gale: you can't really understand it until you live through it.

They even had Bannock come over here to try and talk to me. I'm not exactly sure why Rye thought he could help. Ban and I haven't really ever been close. He was always favorited by our mother and while on occasion he would stick up for me against her, he only did it if there was absolutely no danger to himself and in the more recent years he never said a word. He wasn't a wrestler like Rye and me. In fact, he used to tell us off for trying to practice after dinner, so neither one of us really liked him all that much until he moved out. But some of the things we talked about were a bit, surprising.

"You know Peeta," Bannock said. "In many ways, I always envied you."

I remember looking at him in shock. "You envied me?" I said. "What the hell for?"

We were sitting on the front porch of the house, looking at the sun setting over the trees in the distance. I felt a sharp pang of longing, wishing Katniss was here to see this sunset. Sunset orange. My favorite color.

"Well," Bannock said. "You always knew exactly what you wanted. Even if it wasn't reasonable, or even seemingly possible, you knew exactly what it was. You knew you wanted to decorate the cakes because you knew you were the best at it. You knew you wanted to wrestle because you knew you were good at it. And you knew you wanted to be with Katniss because you knew you loved her. You knew that, no matter what Mom said about her being Seam trash or about how worthless Mom said you'd be if you went after her, you knew she was what you wanted. You always knew. What some of us wouldn't have given to have the kind of certainty you had."

I was quiet for a minute. "Yeah," I said softly, still staring at the setting sun. "Yeah, I guess I did. And look where it got me. I might not ever see her alive again."

Bannock whipped his head around at that, his face twisted in anger. He grabbed my arm, forcing me to look at him.

"Don't you get it?" he seethed. "I only wish I'd had just a bit of that certainty. Do you really think it was my life's ambition to run the General Store? Do you really think I enjoyed watching Mom beat the hell out of you? And do you really think I don't envy that you went after and married the girl of your dreams?"

I gaped at him. "But, isn't Casey the girl of your dreams?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "She was a good match, the daughter of my employer. She's a fine woman from a fine Merchant family, she has a good sense for business, she had a nice dowry, she's actually a lot like Mom..." his voice trailed off.

"But, then why did you marry her?" I asked him incredulously.

"It's what was expected of me," Bannock replied. "I wasn't brave like you, to go after and marry the girl I really loved. To defy our mother and the stupid prejudices of our district."

The prejudices of our district. Did that mean...? "You were in love with a girl from the Seam?" I asked.

Bannock's eyes flitted away and he suddenly became very interested in a knothole in one of the floorboards.

"Yes," he said quietly. "Not only was she from the Seam, but she was a year older than me." He poked his finger through the knothole. "Her name was Tala. She was absolutely beautiful, just as beautiful as Katniss is to you. She lost her father in that same explosion that killed Mr. Everdeen, and was trying to help out her mother by earning money tutoring in math after school. I pretended to need extra help in math for almost two school years just so I could spend time with her, and I paid her out of my allowance."

"You got an allowance?" I said petulantly. "I never got an allowance!"

"Yeah, well, I'm not surprised. Because when Mom found out what I was doing with mine, well, let's just say I'm glad you and Rye had a wrestling match that afternoon, because it wasn't pretty."

"What happened?" I whispered, my eyes wide.

"Pretty much what you'd expect. Mom screamed and yelled and called me a Seam whore-lover and all other kinds of nasty names, and ranted about how she knew I was better than that and how disappointed she was. She demanded that I break it off with Tala immediately, and the very next day she introduced me to Casey's father. That was four months before my last reaping. And the rest, as they say, is history."

Bannock paused, once again studying the knothole. Then he looked up at me with his eyes brimming with tears.

"And there isn't a day that goes by where I don't miss her, Peeta. Probably almost as much as you're missing your Katniss. But, like I said, I'm not brave like you are. If I'd been brave, I'd have told our mother where she could go. I'd have went and worked in the coal mines, and married Tala once I cleared that last reaping. She was waiting for me. She loved me, just as much as I loved her. I broke her heart." Then he sniffed loudly and swiped at his eyes.

"And after that I never dared to say anything against Mom, out of fear. Even when she would rant and yell and beat on you, I never could say anything or she would reveal my secret to Casey's parents. I was a coward, Peeta. Plain and simple."

I was silent for a while, watching the sun dip below the horizon. Somehow, being Mom's favorite son didn't sound all that great anymore.

"Do you know what happened to her? To Tala?" I finally asked.

"Yeah," he whispered. "She ended up marrying some widower coal miner who had three kids already right after your Games ended, and I'm not even sure where she's living now. Somewhere in the Seam. I haven't tried to find her in a while."

"Wow," I said. I tried to imagine the love of my life, my Katniss, married to someone else and I audibly gasped. "Ban, I'm so sorry."

He looked up at me, his eyes blazing with self-loathing. "Don't be sorry for me. I did all of this to myself. You, on the other hand, did nothing but follow your heart and say to hell with the rest of it. You are a very brave person, Peeta, and so is Katniss. She's a survivor. And you're going to see her again. I just know it."

I haven't seen Bannock since then. I'm not sure if he's been trying to avoid me or if he's just busy, but he hasn't come by again.

A loud knock on the door announces the arrival of Haymitch, with Gale surprisingly trailing in behind him. "My mom and everyone else went over to the Everdeen's," Gale says. "Haymitch said there'd be more room here."

Rye's eyes shoot up but he doesn't say anything. "Uh, okay," I mumble. "Hey Gale."

Gale nods in my general direction as he sits down on the chair opposite the couch that I'm sitting on with Rye and Madge.

Haymitch starts fiddling with the breast pocket of his shirt. He pulls out something that looks like one of those music chips that my prep team likes so much and presses a button on it. "All right, everyone listen carefully, because we only have three minutes." He glances at the clock on the wall before holding out the music chip for all of us to see. "This is a signal jammer. It was designed by Beetee Laiter, the Victor from District 3 who was reaped for the Quell. It disables any listening devices in the room within a 25- foot radius."

My mouth gapes open as everyone else in the room stares at him. "Haymitch-" I start to say, but he holds his hand up, cutting me off.

"Just listen," he says firmly. "There's a plan being finalized for a rescue attempt from the Quell arena. Right now we don't know when or how, only that an attempt will be made. There's been some things in the works for a long time now, but all the pieces finally came together after your and Katniss's little stunt with the berries."

"Things in the works for what?" Gale asks, sounding suspicious.

"Uprising. A revolution. Whatever you want to call it," Haymitch replies, looking around at all of us. "It's been tried a couple times before without success, but we feel like this time things are different. Your dad," he says, looking at Gale," and your dad," now gesturing at Rye and me. "And Katniss's dad, they were all in on it before, along with several others."

"The mine explosion?" I whisper. "Katniss's dad, and Gale's dad, that was why?" Haymitch nods. I see Gale's face hardening with determination and pride.

"Shit," I hear Rye say softly next to me. "I didn't think the old man had it in him."

"Now listen," Haymitch continues. "We weren't aware of how the Quell was going to come about, or who was going to be reaped from each district once it was announced, although we had a decent idea about most of them."

"And what about Katniss?" I say frantically. "Did you know about her?" I can feel my heart starting to pound like it does when I have one of my panic attacks. If Haymitch knew Katniss was going to be reaped and didn't tell me, I'm going to kill him.

"No," Haymitch says grimly. "All of the indications seemed to point to you getting picked. Katniss was a surprise. The way we see it now is that Snow must think if she doesn't make it home, you'll be too broken to cause any more trouble."

That information doesn't help me feel calmer at all. Snow is most likely absolutely correct in that assessment. I take another gulp of my now-cold tea and shudder at the taste.

"Who's this 'we' you keep referring to?" Gale asks, but Haymitch waves him off.

"We have only one minute left," Haymitch continues, glancing again at the clock. "I wanted you guys to be aware about what's going on with the Quell. Over half of the Quell tributes are in on it. And Peeta, these other tributes are going to be extra careful with Katniss. They're going to make sure that she makes it out of the arena. As sure as they can be, at least. It's time to put a stop to this madness."

"What?" I say. "That doesn't make-" but I'm cut off by Madge.

"Where would they be rescued to?" Madge asks. "The tributes can't very well be returned to their districts?"

"I've said enough for now," Haymitch says. "It's better that you don't know everything yet." And with that, he clicks off the signal jamming device and puts it back into his pocket.

I stare at him, my mind spinning. "You've brought that into our house before, haven't you Haymitch?" I ask him.

"Yep," he says, nodding. "It goes everywhere with me."

My attention is drawn back to the television as Caesar Flickerman appears on the stage, his hair and face highlighted in lavender this year. "Welcome!!" he cries out in his dramatic fashion. "Welcome to the Third Quarter Quell, and what is sure to be the most amazing Hunger Games ever!! Now everyone, this is a very special night! For tonight, we will send our love along with these amazing Victor/tributes, and sadly, say goodbye to all but one."

There's a dramatic pause. "Let's hear it!" he screams out, and the crowd goes wild.

But as the camera pans briefly to the Victors waiting in the wings offstage, there's no sense of excitement or celebration in most of their expressions. This is the first time I realize the depth of the betrayal felt among most of the Victors and the rage that accompanies it. But they are smart about it, because they manage to turn it around to reflect back on the government, and President Snow in particular. Not everyone. The old throwback Brutus, who looks like he's just there for another Games, and a couple others who are either too baffled or drugged to join the attack. But there are enough of them who still have the wits and the nerve to come out fighting.

Cashmere starts the ball rolling with a speech about how she just can't stop crying when she thinks of how much the people of the Capitol must be suffering over the loss of their precious Victors. Beetee from Three questions the legality of the Quell in a sort of nervous, twitchy way. He wonders if it's been fully examined by any experts of late. Finnick Odair recites a poem he wrote to his one true love, and about a hundred people in the audience faint because they're sure he means them. By the time Johanna Mason gets up, she's asking if something can't be done, because surely the creators of the Quarter Quell couldn't have anticipated such love forming between the Victors and the Capitol. Then Haymitch's friend Chaff comes up and insists that the president could change the Quell if he wanted to, but he must not think it matters much to anyone.

By the time Katniss is introduced, with an over-the-top "You know her as the Girl on Fire!!" from Caesar, the audience seems in an absolute wreck. I clutch my teacup in my hands, willing them unsuccessfully to stop shaking. She's dressed in a white silk bridal gown and matching veil which I recognize as one of the dresses from her photo shoot. This one must have been the winning design. It nearly causes a riot in the audience.

"Why are they so upset about her fancy dress?" Gale asks.

"It's a reminder to them that their Star-Crossed lovers won't be living happily ever after," Haymitch says grimly. "It's pretty in-your-face, even for...hmm." and his voice trails off.

I look over at Haymitch, raising my eyebrow. He ignores me though, keeping his eyes glued to the screen.

I can see even Caesar's professionalism showing a few cracks as he tries to reign the audience back in so Katniss can speak, but it takes several minutes before he's able to get them quiet enough for him to ask Katniss any questions.

Finally there's a lull. "So Katniss," he gets out. "Obviously this is a very emotional night for everyone. I understand that this is the wedding gown that was chosen by vote for you to wear at your wedding to your co-Victor, Peeta Mellark, is that correct?"

"Yes," she replies. "President Snow thought that everyone would like to see it. Didn't Cinna do an amazing job?" Her voice is steady and calm.

"Yes, yes he did. But Katniss," Caesar continues. "The wedding, the marriage to Peeta, now perhaps never to be. How are you doing with that?"

Katniss takes a deep breath, looking out at the audience. "Well Caesar, do you think our friends here could keep a secret?"

I hear an uncomfortable laugh emanate from the audience. Rye looks at me in surprise, and I shrug. What can she mean? The whole country is watching.

"Oh I'll bet they can, if we ask," Caesar says with a dramatic flair. "We're all friends here, right?" The audience roars their assent.

"Well," Katniss says, and I see her look down at her wedding ring. "Peeta and I are already married. We've been married since last August. We invited our families, and we signed the forms, and we had our toasting ceremony, which is our special marriage ritual in District 12. And Peeta gave me this ring." She holds her hand out to Caesar, who takes it carefully.

"Oh that's lovely! But why didn't you tell anyone?" Caesar asks. "We all wanted to celebrate with you, would have wanted to celebrate with you both. Why keep it a secret?"

Katniss looks down at her ring again, twirling it around her finger. "Well, you see," she begins. "All we really wanted after our Games was to be left alone. We were just getting to really know each other, just falling in love, and we wanted to do that away from cameras and audiences and people following us around. We only wanted some privacy. Because after all the trauma and sickness and everything else that is the Games, that's really all what most of us Victors want. We just want to be left alone to pick up the pieces of our lives. I'm very lucky that I had Peeta to help me, and he had me, because it isn't easy. Peeta lost his leg, and I don't think the nightmares will ever go away for either of us. And it hurts me so much to think of how Peeta is doing at home right now without me there."

I can't help my bottom lip from quivering or the sobs that escape from my throat as the audience erupts again, and I can see the other Victors nodding their heads in agreement. She's absolutely right. We didn't ask for any of this. The other Victors didn't ask for any of this. All we wanted was to be left alone, to love each other and take care of each other. We never meant to start any trouble. We never meant to instigate anything. How I wish I would take her right into my arms and hold her right now. My arms ache with the thought of it.

But Katniss isn't done yet.

"But now, since I've been taken away from my home, and from my husband, I'm going to fight as hard as I can to return to him. And to my mother, and my sister, and Peeta's family, and our friends, and everyone else who loves us. Because no one, especially not twice in their lifetimes, should be forcibly ripped from the people they love and sent away to fight to the death."

And with that she starts to twirl, and my heart nearly stops for a minute as I see her white dress go up in flames. Charred bits of black silk swirl in the air, and I can hear pearls hitting the stage floor. It's only after some of the smoke has cleared that I can see what has happened. She's not naked, thank goodness. But her white dress has burned away to reveal a dress the color of coal and seemingly made of tiny feathers. Katniss looks down in confusion at her arms before lifting them straight out from her sides, as the sleeves of the dress have changed into wings. Black wings with white patches on the ends.

She's turned into a mockingjay.

"It's some sort of bird," I can barely make out Caesar saying.

"It's a mockingjay," Katniss says firmly. I can see her looking over at Cinna. "It's the bird on the pin I wore in our Games last year."

I see a flash of recognition pass across Caesar's face, along with a hint of fear. Because I have a feeling that what will be seen as just a flashy costume change in the Capitol is resonating in an entirely different way throughout the districts. I only have to look over at Haymitch and Gale to confirm this.

"Well, I think your stylist has outdone himself this time," Caesar is saying on the TV. "Cinna! Stand up and take a bow!"

And suddenly it hits me. Cinna planned this. He meant to turn Katniss into a symbol tonight. He must be in on it. I look over at Haymitch, raising my eyebrow. He nods.

"Remember, Boy. Not everything in the Capitol is exactly how it appears."


	40. The Night Before the Quell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's almost time for the Quell to begin!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll hear from both Haymitch and Katniss in this chapter. :)

HPOV

My signal transmitter is vibrating against my chest as I enter my house. I'm still not used to the house smelling like anything other than the school gym after a wrestling tournament, but even I have to admit that the Hawthorne woman does a good job. Tonight it smells like disinfectant, which must mean that she did the bathrooms and the kitchen today. Tomorrow should be laundry then. Better make sure to take my 'music chip' out of my pocket so it doesn't end up going through the wash.

I press the button to receive messages and a series of beeps and dashes follows. The beeps and dashes were Beetee's idea. Apparently a long time ago people used to use these sequences to send messages, before telephones were invented. Some guy named Moose or Morsh or something like that. I listen carefully to the sequence. It repeats itself twice before turning off.

INTERVIEWS GOOD. PLAN IS ON.

Damn right the interviews went well. That's my tribute who brought that house down tonight. I couldn't have coached Sweetheart better myself. It was almost like the Boy was feeding her lines from backstage or something. I've never heard her talk like that for that long. It's exactly what we needed from her. And Cinna burning up her dress, well, that was a bold move, but it sure drove Sweetheart's points home.

I grab a new bottle of liquor before heading to the couch in the living room. I twist open the cap and take a big swig before sitting back and kicking my shoes off. Since Hawthorne's wife started working here I've actually slept in my bed a few times, since the sheets are always clean and tucked in with the hospital corners and so tight you could bounce a coin off of them. But I'm not really tired yet.

Through the open kitchen and living room windows I can faintly hear Middle Mellark's wife, Maysilee's niece, asking the Boy if he needs anything to eat before going to sleep. I don't hear him answer her, but she must get some kind of acknowledgement because she tells him the time and heads up the stairs. It's been the same ever since Sweetheart left. Boy spends hours downstairs just sitting by himself. Sometimes I can hear him crying, and sometimes I hear him clomp up the stairs to his painting studio for a while. I know he doesn't sleep in their bedroom right now with Sweetheart gone. Not that I can blame him.

I owe him. I owe Sweetheart too. I couldn't believe my drunken ears when the two of them were announced as tributes last year. First Sweetheart volunteering for her sister and then hearing the Boy's name called, well, I'd wondered how long it would be before old Dan Mellark was punished for his role in all of it. Hawthorne and Everdeen and the others were easy to get rid of with the mine explosion, but the nuances of the District class system made arranging an accident for one of the Merchant class a little more difficult. The Capitol depends on the taxes paid to it by the Merchants, so just getting rid of the baker wouldn't work well in our tiny district as there was really no one available to replace him. Dan's oldest son wasn't nearly as good a baker as he was. The middle one was better, but too young. The youngest was better still, but again, much too young. And it was pretty well known that Dan loved his youngest son dearly, as he was the most like Dan. And because the Boy's mom seemingly made it her almost-daily goal to beat the hell out of him. Peeta being reaped at 16 was the best way to punish Dan. Just when there hadn't been a Merchant kid reaped in over 10 years. Just when he thought that maybe he could stop looking over his shoulder every time he left the bakery.

What Dan doesn't know though, is that it was my fault. All of it was my fault. I passed out on my couch one cold night without putting the fireplace grate up, and a spark escaped and landed on the rug. Which wouldn't have been such a big deal if I hadn't knocked over my liquor bottle in the process of standing up to stomp out the fire, causing it to roar almost out of control for a couple of minutes. By the time I was able to put the fire out the rug was ruined. When that year's Victory Tour stopped by Twelve, word got out to Effie about what happened, and Effie insisted on having the rug replaced. Which would have been fine, except that it never even occurred to me that the listening device imbedded in the new rug would be impervious to the signal jammer that we had at the time. A couple of days after the rug was replaced it was my turn to host our weekly chess games, which is when we would plan things. The mine explosion was only a few days after that.

The day I realized what exactly had happened I literally tried to drink myself to death. I woke up from that bender four days later, and it was over three years before I saw Dan Mellark face to face again. We'd been friends since we were six years old, much to the chagrin of Dan's parents who thought it wasn't appropriate for him to be associating himself with Seam brats. Him and Everdeen and Hawthorne were the only people who would even talk to me for a while after I came home from my Games. But not any longer. The Capitol had won again.

But they won't win this time. This time, the way things are falling into place...this time it should work. This time it has to work. Sweetheart only has to stay alive.

 

KPOV

I make my way out of the staging area, managing to avoid speaking to anyone. I think I can hear Finnick calling after me as I practically run to the elevator, but I'm far enough away that I can pretend I didn't hear him.

Bursting into the penthouse apartment, I barely make it to my bedroom before the bitter tears start to stream down my face, ruining my carefully applied eye makeup. I'm probably expected to eat dinner soon with Effie and Cinna, but I really don't want to see anyone right now.

My mind goes back to my interview. "All we really wanted was to be left alone, to pick up the pieces of our lives, and to love each other," I'd said, or something like that. I'd even surprised myself at how eloquent and convincing I sounded. Maybe because I meant every single word. My words seem to cause a ripple throughout the rest of the tributes too, as we all joined hands once I returned to the lineup. The audience became so rowdy that Caesar Flickerman had to cut his post-interview remarks short.

I carefully slip out of the mockingjay dress and lay it over a chair before I step into the huge shower, managing to find a simple setting that smells like nothing. I scrub the makeup from my skin and wash my hair, allowing my tears to mingle with the water raining down on me. I glance down at my wedding ring glinting at me from my left hand. I haven't taken it off once since that day when Peeta placed it on my finger.

I towel off and pull on a thick, fleecy nightgown. Effie knocks on the door to announce dinner but I ignore her, and eventually she gives up and goes away. I order some hot chocolate from the panel in my room, but find that I can't even drink it when it arrives. After pacing around the room for a while I give up and climb into bed, but it takes me only about five seconds to realize that I'll never fall asleep. And I need sleep desperately, because in the arena every moment I give in to fatigue will be an invitation to death. And I need to get back home to Peeta. I promised him.

It's no good. One hour, two, three pass, and my eyelids refuse to get heavy. I try to mentally prep for what I might face in the arena. Will it be a desert? Swamp? Another forest like last year? Probably not. I don't remember them ever repeating the same terrain two years in a row.

Thoughts of Peeta invade my brain without me even trying. I wonder how he's faring at home without me. I hope that Rye and Madge followed through on their promise to look after him for me. My hands ache to touch him, to feel his warm skin under my fingertips. His skin is always so warm that he often jumps when my perpetually cold hands touch him. I lick my lips, trying to remember the feel of his lips against mine. The way his baker's hands feel running over my body. The way his strong arms hold me close at night. The way his azure eyes twinkle with how much he loves me. How he can make my skin tingle just by smiling at me. And the feel of him moving inside me, when our bodies are joined together in the most intimate of ways and all I can focus on is the feel of him all around and through me, and the rest of the world disappears for a while.

"Peeta, I miss you so much!" I cry out into the darkness. "I miss you so much! I don't know if I can do this alone!"

I fling back the blankets and stand back up, too restless to even stay in the bed. I start pacing the floor, my heart racing and my breath coming in short gasps. The air in the room feels too thick all of a sudden, so I open the door to my bedroom and run down the hall to the door that leads to the roof.

The roof is not lit at night, and I half expect to see Peeta's black silhouette against the windows as I reach them and sit down. What a difference a year makes. My eyes get misty with shame thinking of how rude I was to him on that night before our Games. How he was sitting there, thinking about how to maintain his sense of self in that arena, and all I'd been concerned about had been the availability of trees.

"I don't want to just be another piece in their Games," he had said. I hadn't understood what he meant when he'd said it then.

But I understand it now. And I won't. I won't just be another piece in their Games. I owe it to him to try my absolute best to make it back home.

"I'll make it back home," I whisper into the darkness.

 _But then what?_ What happens next, if I do make it home again. Do things just go on like they always have? With people suffering and constantly on the brink of starvation and two poor kids getting reaped every year? What about the rest of the districts? And would Snow follow through on his threat to sell Peeta and me to the highest bidders if we don't cooperate? Now that all of Panem knows we're married, would we be forced to have children? And then twelve years later be forced to watch our child be reaped into his own Hunger Games?

A violent shudder goes through my body at the thought of having to watch my child, our child, fight through an arena. No. This has to stop. All of it has to stop. Snow has to be stopped. My hands clench into fists.

_But how?_

I can see the lights from the street and hear people screaming and shouting as they celebrate the start of another Hunger Games. It's despicable really. Peeta was right that night at President Snow's mansion. "You think you can go along with it, that they're not that bad... then they're just throwing it up to stuff more in."

It's amazing how well he understands things like that.

I look down at my ring again. The green stones alternating with the orange. Our favorite colors.

"I miss you, so much," I whisper, touching the ring to my lips. I lean my head against the window and squeeze my eyes shut, trying to reach for him across the hundreds and hundreds of miles that separate us, to send my thoughts into his mind. To let him know how much I love him and miss him, and how hard I'm going to try to return home to him. To my mother and Prim also, but they don't need me like Peeta does. Nobody needs me like Peeta does. And I need him even more.

It must be well after midnight when I feel my head jerk up off the cold window. I must have nodded off. Rubbing my eyes, I get to my feet and shuffle quietly back to my room. I climb into the bed, pull what would be Peeta's pillow into my arms, and bring my ring to my lips. And that's how I end up falling into an uneasy sleep.

Cinna knocks on my door at dawn and accompanies me back up to the roof, where a hovercraft is waiting for me. The electric current freezes me in place on the ladder until the doctor injects the tracker into my left forearm. Now they will always be able to locate me in the arena. The hovercraft takes off, and I look out the windows until they black out. Cinna keeps pressing me to eat and, when that fails, to drink. I manage to keep sipping water, thinking of the dehydration that almost killed me last year.

I shower quickly when we reach the Launch Room at the arena. Cinna braids my hair down my back and after slipping into a tank top and undershorts, he hands me a fitted black and grey outfit that resembles a jumpsuit of some kind that zips up the back. There's also a wide padded belt and a pair of nylon shoes with rubber soles.

"The suit is light, so I'd guess either tropics or desert," Cinna says in his gravelly voice. He produces my gold mockingjay pin and fixes it to one of the arms of the jumpsuit, hiding it underneath the detachable sleeve. Technically, tributes are allowed to have a token in the arena, but I'm already wearing my ring, so the mockingjay pin would be considered a second token.

"There, now you're all set," he says, resting his hands on my shoulders.

"That dress was beautiful," I tell him, my voice trembling. "I think it's the best one you've ever made."

"Shh," he whispers, bringing his finger to his lips. "Remember I'm still betting on you girl on fire." Then he gives me a hug and steps back as the voice of Claudius Templesmith announces "ten seconds to launch."

I step back onto the round plate as the glass cylinder slides down around me. I lift my chin and wait for the plate to rise. But it doesn't.

I look at Cinna, raising my eyebrows for an explanation. He just gives his head a slight shake, as confused as I am. What are they waiting for?

Suddenly the door behind him bursts open and two Peacekeepers spring into the room. One hits Cinna right on his forehead with a baton, causing him to run into the cylinder and leave a trail of blood as he collapses. The Peacekeepers alternate hitting and kicking him until he's unconscious, ignoring my screams of horror and anguish as they finally drag Cinna's limp body from the room. All that's left are the smears of his blood on the glass and floor.

Sickened and terrified, I feel the plate begin to rise. I'm still leaning against the glass when the breeze catches my hair and I force myself to straighten up. Just in time too, because the glass is retreating and I'm standing free in the arena. My tears must be blurring my vision, because the ground seems to be much too shiny. It's also moving. I squint down at my feet and see that my metal plate is surrounded by blue waves that lap up over my shoes. Slowly I raise my eyes and take in the water spreading out in every direction.

I can only form one clear thought. This is really no place for a girl on fire.


	41. The Quell Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Quell has begun!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll hear from both Peeta and Katniss in this chapter. :)

Chapter 40

PPOV

The last night before the Quell passes both very quickly and very slowly. I spend most of the night wandering around the house, sitting in various windowsills, watching the moon moving across the sky. I didn't realize I'd fallen asleep until Rye finds me sitting by the kitchen window in the morning, my head tilted at an awkward angle and my left arm completely numb.

"You hungry?" Rye asks me, pulling out ingredients from the pantry.

It's on the tip of my tongue to say no. I'm never really hungry anymore. But I know that all I'll get is grief if I don't at least try to eat a little something. "What're you making?"

"I thought some biscuits sounded good this morning," he says lightly.

He's lying, of course. Plain biscuits are just that. Plain. It's what we would make when we had just enough left from a sack of flour to make something hot for ourselves. Only every now and then would the flour sack have that extra cup or two that we needed. But with the way my stomach is churning with fear and anticipation right now, plain biscuits might be the only thing I might be able to keep down.

"Sounds good," I tell him. "I think I'll go shower."

I head to the downstairs bedroom and into the shower. The shower in here is a small one, only enough room for one person, and doesn't have all the fancy buttons like the ones upstairs do. I only stay in long enough to quickly wash my hair and body. Then I grab a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and slide them on. I may as well be as comfortable as possible. It's only after I see a glimpse of myself in the small mirror over the sink that I realize the t-shirt I grabbed is the same one that Katniss wore to sleep in her first night living here, the night before our wedding. My jaw clenches in determination.

"She's going to come home," I tell my reflection, my hand fisted into the fabric at my chest. "She's going to come home."

I limp my way back to the kitchen to find Madge and Rye sitting at the table, talking quietly. They stop as soon as I reach the table.

"The biscuits will be ready in a few minutes," Rye says. I just nod. Madge pushes a mug of tea towards me.

"I left out the sugar this time," she says pointedly.

"Thanks," I say quietly. I wrap my hands around the cup, watching the tea jiggle with my trembling.

The oven timer goes off and we all eat in silence. Rye gets ready to leave for the bakery as Haymitch walks in through the front door, reaching for a biscuit as he sits down next to me. He then pulls his jammer thing out of his pocket and presses the button.

"Everything's a go," he says, looking around at each of us in turn. "All Sweetheart needs to do is stay alive, and the tributes on our side will make darn sure that she does. As best as they can at least."

"Haymitch," I start to say, but he cuts me off.

"I can't tell you anything more than that," he says firmly. "It's better that you don't know, for your own protection. And hers."

I try to swallow down the lump in my throat. "Okay."

"Okay," Haymitch repeats, his eyes more clear and determined than I've ever seen them.

The minutes tick by. Rye leaves for the bakery, as the mandatory viewing won't be until this evening, when they will show recaps of the daytime action before switching back to live coverage. I've managed to eat and keep down two biscuits and take a couple of sips of the tea at Madge's prompting when the television clicks on in the living room. My head snaps up and I look at Haymitch. He stands up from the table and moves to sit on a chair in the living room.

"Looks like it's time," he says, jerking his head to indicate we should join him.

The camera pans around and we are afforded our first view of the Quell arena. I can see the Cornucopia, shining gold under what looks to be a pink-colored sky, and sitting on what at first glance appears to be a circular-shaped island. As the camera moves though, I can see that it's not exactly an island. There's twelve thin spokes of land spreading from the island and leading to what looks to be similar to the forest from our last Games. But it's not quite a forest. The trees aren't quite right.

"It's a jungle," Haymitch says quietly. "They haven't done a jungle since before my Games."

The tribute plates are situated in between each of the strips of land, one plate between two spokes. The white-hot sun is beating down, illuminating the waves washing over each of the plates, and glinting off of the piles of weapons stacked at the entrance to the Cornucopia.

I hear the sound of a horn, and the heads of the tributes slowly begin to appear from under the arena. My eyes go immediately to Katniss as she looks around the arena, trying to get her bearings. She's dressed in a tight-fitting grey and black suit of some kind with matching water shoes. She's breathing heavily and I see her swipe quickly at her eyes before bending down to touch the water. She brings her hand to her lips and grimaces.

"Must be saltwater," Haymitch mumbles.

"She's upset about something," I say, trying to not let my voice crack. "Something happened before she came up that upset her."

"Can't do anything about it now," Haymitch says. "She has ten seconds. Does she know how to swim, cause that's the only way she's getting off that plate."

"Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventy-fifth Hunger Games begin!" the voice of Claudius Templesmith, the Hunger Games announcer booms over a loudspeaker into the arena. Immediately a ten-second clock begins to count down.

"Yeah, she can swim," I whisper. I curl my hands around my teacup, remembering our day spent at the lake last summer's end. The day she gave herself to me completely for the first time.

The gong rings out and Katniss immediately dives into the water, navigating the waves with her effortless strokes. My breath hitches a little as I notice that the tribute from District 2, Brutus, has swam towards the same spoke as Katniss. Katniss reaches the spoke of land first and hoists herself up, causing Brutus to pause and wait rather than risk Katniss grabbing a weapon and immediately turning on him. She reaches the Cornucopia and grabs a black bow and sheath of arrows, loading an arrow as she turns around and finds herself face to face with Finnick Odair.

Finnick stands there holding a black trident weapon, the same type of weapon he used to win his first Games. Strangely enough, the trident was directly in front of the spoke of land that he swam to, much like the bow and arrows were right in front of Katniss.

My heart jumps into my throat as Katniss and Finnick stare each other down. Finnick appears to be holding his wrist out for Katniss to see. I can see the sun shining off of something metallic.

"Good thing we're allies, right?" I hear Finnick say.

"Where did you get that?" Katniss demands, staring intently at the gold circling his wrist.

"What's he wearing on his wrist?" I demand of Haymitch.

"It's his token," Haymitch replies, not taking his eyes off the screen. "It's a gold bangle, and if you look closely enough, you can see it's made up of the... birds." Then he looks at me and raises one of his eyebrows. I immediately exhale the breath I'd been holding. Finnick must be one of the good guys.

"Duck!" I hear Finnick shout. Katniss immediately drops to the ground as Finnick's trident goes sailing over her head, right into the chest of the tribute from District 5. The sound of the impact is sickening, but Finnick doesn't miss a beat as he retrieves the trident and calls out over his shoulder as the cannon fires.

"Don't trust One and Two," he says. "And grab some supplies and follow me!"

"Do what he says, Katniss!" I call out to the television, willing her to listen to the both of us.

Katniss quickly scans the pile of items, obviously looking for something other than weapons. Frustrated, she grabs a second sheath of arrows that she slings onto her back, a knife, and a small pointy object that roughly resembles a spigot and sticks them into her belt.

"There's no food or water here!" she cries. "There's only weapons!"

The television screen suddenly splits in half, and I can see Cashmere coming closer to the Cornucopia on one of the land spokes to the left of Katniss.

"Katniss, just go!" I yell, as if she can hear me. Katniss must have heard Cashmere coming as she quickly shoots an arrow at her, but Cashmere dives back into the water just in time. The screen changes again to show Brutus coming towards Katniss from the other direction, and again my heart leaps into my throat. But Katniss's Capitol ear apparently hasn't been affected by the water, because she whips around and shoots an arrow without even hardly looking at Brutus, managing to hit the belt around his waist, and causing him to stumble back into the water.

"Katniss, c'mon!" Finnick cries out, halfway down one of the spokes. I hear the cannon fire again as Katniss runs to meet him, and Finnick hands her his trident as she approaches.

"Here, cover me," Finnick says. "I need to get Cecelia."

Cecelia, the tribute from District 8, apparently doesn't know how to swim, and is also apparently part of this alliance. Katniss stands with her arrow set, watching Finnick swim out to Cecelia's plate and tow her back to the land spoke. Cashmere and Brutus have reached the Cornucopia and are busily picking over the weapons, and another camera pans to barely catch Johanna Mason running up the beach and disappearing into the jungle, an axe swinging in her hand and another attached to her waist belt.

"It's nice to see you again, Katniss," Cecelia says as Finnick helps her out of the water. Katniss nods.

"All right, let's go," Finnick says. "This way. Katniss, you lead," and he points with his trident into the jungle. I let out another breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding and lean back a little on the couch as Madge gently squeezes my arm.

Katniss has survived the bloodbath.

 

KPOV

We run for what seems to be several minutes before I hear Finnick telling me to stop for a minute. I can hear Cecelia panting hard behind me. She obviously didn't train like Peeta and I did. But Finnick seems to be part machine, as he's barely out of breath. The three of us stand there, looking at each other, when all of a sudden two more cannons go off.

"Well, it doesn't seem like we're holding hands anymore," Finnick says with a slight chuckle.

I glare at him. "You think that's funny?"

Finnick's face immediately turns serious. "None of this is funny," he says grimly. "Absolutely none of it."

I stare at him and he stares right back. I can see Cecelia looking back and forth between the two of us.

"I counted four cannons," she says, looking at Finnick. "Is that what you heard as well?"

Finnick nods, his eyes never leaving mine. It's like he's trying to size me up. I stare right back. Part of me says that I should trust him, be his ally. But the other part of me realizes that there can only be one Victor this time, and I promised Peeta that it would be me. Allying with these people now will just make it more difficult for me to kill them later on. Peeta would know exactly what to do if he was here. I'm the one who always has to waver.

"Let's keep moving," I say. "We need to find fresh water." Finnick nods and helps Cecelia to her feet.

"Lead the way," he says.

We walk for another hour before a thought occurs to me. "Hold on a minute," I tell them. I put my bow across my shoulders and climb up one of the tall trees. The bark is more slippery than I'm used to, but the rubber soles of my shoes work well to hold my feet in place as I climb. I reach the top and look up towards the pink sky, searching for something that I thought I saw.

"There it is," I whisper to myself. While we were walking I could have sworn I saw parts of the the arena shimmering, like the force field in the Tribute Center protecting the Gamemakers had shimmered a little bit, right in the corner. Beetee had pointed it out to me while we were training. I grab my bow and load an arrow, shooting it directly towards one of those shimmering spots. As soon as the arrow hits I see a spurt of light, the flash of the real blue sky and then the arrow is thrown back down into the jungle. I watch it land, then look a little closer at the arena. It seems to be a perfect circle, with the Cornucopia in the center. Each section of the jungle extending from the land spokes in the water is wedge-shaped, like a pie.

"The arena's enclosed in a force-field," I say as I reach the ground again. "It's a circle, and not very big. But I couldn't see any fresh water sources."

"There has to be something," Cecelia says slowly, like she's talking to one of her kids probably. "Otherwise these Games won't be very exciting, just watching us all die from dehydration."

"Well, we can stop here for a while," Finnick says. "We'll be safe with our backs protected by the force field."

"You two sit for a bit," I say. "But I'm going to look around for some water a little more." I see Finnick purse his lips, but he nods after a few seconds, his thirst winning over his apparent fear of me going off by myself.

I move stealthily through the trees, happy to find that the ground lends itself to soundless footsteps. I work my way down at a diagonal, but I find nothing except lush, green plant life. I shake my head. I can already feel the effects of dehydration affecting my thought process.

 _Think, Katniss, think_. As I've moved through the greenery I've seen animals here. Strange birds with brilliant plumage, tree lizards with flickering blue tongues, and something that looks like a cross between a rat and a possum clinging on the branches close to the trunk. I shoot the funny-looking animal out of the tree to get a closer look.

Oh man is this thing ugly. It has a fuzz of mottled gray fur and two wicked-looking gnawing teeth protruding over its lower lip. As I'm gutting it and skinning it, I notice that its muzzle is wet. This animal was recently drinking.

"But there's no water source!" I say out loud in frustration. I look back up into the tree where it was sitting before I shot it, and start to climb. I notice little scratch marks in the otherwise smooth bark as I go higher, and then finally I see it. There's a hole in the bark and a drop of liquid right underneath. I touch the drop with my finger and carefully bring it to my lips. It's water. Warm, and with a touch of a different taste, but otherwise fresh, clean, drinkable water. The water is inside the trees.

Excited, I quickly climb down and hurry back to our camp. Finnick and Cecelia weren't just sitting around while I was gone. Finnick has woven some bowls and sleeping mats out of the tall grass that seems to grow in tufts, and Cecelia has gathered several handfuls of some strange-looking nuts that she's roasting by bouncing them off of the force field.

"Are you sure those are safe to eat?" I say, probably a bit more harshly than I needed to. Finnick looks up abruptly and glares at me.

"My old mentor, Mags, taught me all about edible plants," he says, his tone condescending. "Trust me, they're safe."

"Fine then. I shot this," I say, holding up the rodent. "And I discovered that it was drinking water from the trees. That's where the water is in this arena. It's in the trees."

They both stare at me. "Well," Cecelia says, sounding again like she's taking to one of her kids. "How does that help us?"

My shoulders slump in defeat. "I don't know," I admit. "There has to be a way to get the water out of the trees, or they wouldn't have done it that way."

"Well, we have food anyway," Finnick says. "Can we eat that thing?" and he points to the rat in my hand.

"I think so, but we should cook it somehow," I say, looking around as if I'm going to suddenly find an oven here in the jungle. This arena is too small to start a fire. We'd risk the Careers seeing the smoke.

"Give it here," Cecelia says. "We do this thing called flash cooking sometimes where I come from." And she takes the rat, cuts it into small pieces with my knife, and throws the pieces against the force field. They come back blackened on the outside but well-cooked on the inside.

It's not a bad first meal for the arena, but all of us are desperate for something to wash it down with. As the pink sky darkens the sound of the anthem distracts us, and four faces appear in the sky. The tributes from districts five, six, nine, and ten are already dead. That leaves only eight of us. This is going to be a pretty quick Games.

I offer to take the first watch when we're finished eating. Cecelia moves over to one of the mats and falls asleep almost immediately, which surprises me for some reason. I try to think how I would be acting in her situation, if I could be as calm as she seems to be about possibly leaving her young children at home without a mother. I remember how I felt when I lost my father, and almost my mother. I couldn't shut down because I had Prim to worry about.

I shake my head. Thinking about Prim and how desperate we were automatically leads to me thinking about Peeta. I exhale shakily as I take a second to look down at my wedding ring. It doesn't seem possible that just barely a year ago we were fighting in another Games, in another arena. How I had thought that Peeta was trying to kill me along with the Careers, when actually he was trying to protect me from them. It feels very selfish of me to wish that he was here now with me, but I can't help it. I miss him so much.

I bring my ring up to my lips briefly when I see Finnick out of the corner of my eye moving up towards me. He sits down next to me, glancing down at my ring before looking back at me.

"You miss him, don't you," he says softly. I just stare at him, not wanting to admit to any point of weakness on my part. But I can't help the tears that spring to my eyes.

"It's okay if you do, Katniss," Finnick says. "You love him. It's okay to miss someone you love when you're away from them."

He says that like he has personal experience with it. I just nod my head.

"I've been thinking, about how to get the water from the trees," I say, changing the subject. "I keep trying to think if there was something at the Cornucopia that I should have grabbed..." my voice trails off as I reach for my belt, pulling out the pointy object that I grabbed in haste.

"There was!" I say triumphantly. "This is a spile! We can use it to tap into the water veins in the trees!"

Finnick looks confused. "It's a what?" he asks. I don't reply. Instead I grab a nearby rock and move towards one of the trees. I study the bark, trying to gauge where the water veins might be running. Then I place the spile against the tree and gently pound it in with the rock. It sticks after a few pounds and I stand back, watching in anticipation for what seems like an eternity. Finally, a bead of water appears on the end of the spile tip, and slowly stretches until it drops into my hand.

Excited, I start twisting the spile until a thin but steady stream of water starts flowing from it. Finnick yelps in joy and goes to grab the three bowls that he made, holding them under the stream and filling them for us to drink from. Cecelia woke up at Finnick's cries of excitement and gratefully takes a full bowl of water from him. We're able to wash our faces and hands as well, always a luxurious feeling in an arena. The water is warm, like everything else in here, but this is not the time to be picky.

Without our thirst now to distract us, we make preparations to settle in for a while. Finnick offers to take the watch, so I lay down on one of the mats on the ground close to Cecelia. She is able to fall asleep again almost instantly, almost before I'm even able to lay down completely. I shake my head. It must be a mom thing.

A loud clanging sound wakes me a few hours later. It sounds like a louder version of the arena countdown clock. I look over at Finnick who I see is silently counting. Then the tolling stops.

"I counted twelve," I say. Finnick nods, looking puzzled. "Midnight, maybe?"

"Or the number of districts?" I say, just as confused.

Off in the distance we notice a huge bolt of lightning striking a towering tree, and then a lightning storm begins. But no rain follows. Just the lightning. Strange.

"Why don't you go to sleep now," I say. "It's my turn to watch." Actually, it would be Cecelia's watch, but not even the lightning has woken her up, so I'm somehow inclined to let her sleep. Finnick lays down on the mat I abandoned and falls into an uneasy sleep.

I hear the pattering of rain as I sit watching the jungle with my bow loaded. Oddly, the rain doesn't seem to be falling directly over the tall tree that was struck by the lightning. It seems to be falling a few hundred yards away. And after a while, it just stops abruptly.

Moments after it stops, I see the fog sliding softly in from the direction of the recent downpour. Just a normal reaction from a cool rain falling onto the warm ground, I try to reassure myself. It continues to approach at a steady pace. As I watch it, I feel the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. Something's not right about this fog. The progression of the front line is too uniform to be natural. I reach my hand closer to touch it. There can't be any harm in touching it, right? It's probably just designed to make it hard for us to see as we make our way though the arena.

But I cry out in pain as my skin immediately starts to blister. "Run!" I scream to the others. "Run, the fog is poison!"

Finnick and Cecelia are on their feet in an instant and start running blindingly through the jungle, me following closely behind. I thank my lucky stars that I'd thought to grab the spile from the tree and secure it back to my belt after we found the water. The fog pursuing us is relentless. As droplets spring free from the body of the vapor and land on me, I can feel a burning sensation, like the chemicals in the droplets are burrowing into my flesh. But what's worse than the burning are the intense muscle spasms that are hindering my ability to keep up the pace that we need to stay ahead of the majority of the fog.

Cecelia's foot catches on a knot of creepers off to my left and she sprawls forward, screaming, which causes Finnick to reverse his course and come back up for her. Just as he's able to free her foot, the fog overtakes him and his entire left side starts to twitch uncontrollably.

"Katniss!" he screams. "We need help!"

My immediate instinct is to flee. To abandon these people and save myself. I could run full out and get ahead of the fog, or even climb up a tree to get above it. But that's not what Peeta would do, I think. He'd help these people without hesitation. And Finnick did save my life at the beginning, so I owe him.

I run quickly over to Cecelia, yanking her foot away from the knot and grabbing her under her arm to pull her down towards the water. Finnick is on her other side, practically being dragged himself for how little control he seems to now have over his limbs.

"We need to move faster!" I yell out, just as I feel my spasming foot step into nothingness and I fall, pulling Cecelia and Finnick right down with me. We tumble and roll down the incline, stopping suddenly about 10 feet away from a small pool of saltwater. Cecelia and Finnick's exposed skin is covered in white blisters, and I can feel the same painful blisters covering my skin. As I manage to roll onto my back, watching the fog roll towards us, I brace myself for what seems like the inevitable. This must be the end. I'm so sorry Peeta.

Then, all of a sudden, the fog stops about five feet in front of me, as if it hits an invisible wall. Wave after wave of it hits this barrier and moves up, dissipating as it rises, until it was like it never even existed. When the last tendril has faded away, I allow myself to sigh in relief and lay my head back down on the ground, trying to catch my breath and will my limbs to stop twitching. I think I see something moving slowly in the trees above us, but brush it off as another one of those tree rats and close my eyes.

_I'm still alive, Peeta. I'm still alive._


	42. The Conclusion of the Quell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We will hear from both Peeta and Gale in this chapter.

PPOV

I seriously don't know how I'm going to take watching these Games much longer. My nerves are absolutely shot, I haven't eaten since yesterday morning, and every time someone moves too quickly near me I startle so violently that I'm surprised I haven't hurt someone yet. Last night, after Katniss's close call with that horrible poisonous fog I practically attacked Haymitch. I dug his 'music chip' out of his pocket and shoved it into his hand, glaring at him until he turned it on.

"You said they were going to protect her!" I screamed at him. "You said she'd be okay! She was just almost killed by that fog!"

"None of the tributes know what's going to happen in the arena!" Haymitch yelled back at me. "It's very likely that the Gamemakers have things like that all over the place in there. Since there aren't as many tributes, they have to make up the excitement somehow."

I slumped onto the floor, my strength completely gone. "I just wish I knew, how much longer she's going to have to stay in there," I sobbed. "It's killing me to not be in there trying to help her."

Haymitch pulled me up by my armpits then. "And that right there is exactly what Snow wants," he said firmly. "So you have to stop it. You have to reach deep down into the reserves you didn't even know you had and be strong for her. Sweetheart needs you to be strong right now. She can't be worrying about how you're doing watching her while she's trying to concentrate on staying alive!"

Haymitch was right of course. "Okay," I whispered. "Okay." I sat back down onto the couch then, absentmindedly rubbing my leg where it meets my prosthesis. Haymitch nodded and clicked off his transmitter.

The reprieve was short-lived, however. About thirty minutes after Katniss and Finnick and Cecelia cleaned off their blisters and their ruined jumpsuits in that shallow pool of water, Cecelia had taken the spile to try to get them some water and startled a very angry-looking monkey. That one monkey turned quickly into at least fifty of the beasts, all baring their teeth and growling at the three tributes. I don't know how Cecelia managed to keep from screaming as she carefully backed up and rejoined the other tributes. Katniss slowly handed Cecelia her knife, reminding the others to step very carefully and avoid making eye contact with the monkeys.

"We need to get to the beach," Katniss whispered evenly.

The three of them stood in a triangle, back to back to back, and started slowly moving in the direction of the beach. It wasn't until Cecelia accidentally glanced up at the trees that the monkeys suddenly attacked.

I'm definitely no expert, but I'd never seen animals move so fast. The horrible monkeys slid down the vines like they were greased, leaping impossible distances from tree to tree to converge on the three tributes. Their fangs were bared, hackles raised, and claws shooting out like switchblades. I may be unfamiliar with animals in general, but those monkeys reminded me of those horrible mutt dogs from our Games.

"They're mutts!" I cried out, just as Finnick said the same thing on the screen. "Katniss, run!!"

But she didn't run, not right away. She stood there with her allies and shot arrow after arrow into those monkeys until she didn't have any arrows left. Then she swung at one of them with her bow as it knocked and held her under the water, causing me to slide off the couch and down to my knees and rake my fingers through my hair in desperation. "Someone help her!!"

I let out a cry as Finnick speared the monkey with his trident and tossed it aside, then pulled Katniss up by her shoulders and shoved her in front of him.

"We need to get to the beach!" he yelled, with Cecelia on his heals, still slashing away blindly behind her with Katniss's knife. Katniss finally reached the tree line and dove headfirst onto the beach, followed quickly by the other tributes. And like with the fog, it was like there was some sort of invisible barrier there because the monkeys just stopped. Still snarling, still clawing, but not getting any closer, until suddenly they simply turned around and walked back into the jungle.

"Oh my God!" I screamed, looking up at Haymitch. He frowned at me.

"She's still alive, Boy," he said. "She's still alive."

After that there was a period of semi-quiet. Finnick trekked back into the jungle to retrieve both the spile and Katniss's arrows, and then had Cecelia take watch while Katniss and him slept for a while. I didn't sleep at all. I stayed there on the couch all night, watching Katniss sleep on the television, while Cecelia kept watch and after Finnick woke up and started gathering shellfish for them to eat.

It's now mid-morning and Katniss is still sleeping, although beginning to stir a little. Madge shoves another cup of tea and a biscuit into my hands but I hardly notice them. Haymitch has reappeared on the chair next to me, having gone home for a while during the night.

"It seems like she slept well," I say, trying to sound optimistic. "She should feel a lot better now."

"Mmmhmm," Haymitch replies. He's studying the television like he's searching for something. Katniss has fully woken up now and is eyeing the raw fish and shellfish that Finnick's collected with suspicion. I nibble absentmindedly at my biscuit.

"Are you sure they're safe to eat raw?" Katniss asks with a grimace on her face. Cecelia chuckles next to Finnick.

Finnick scoffs. "We eat them all the time like that in Four," he says. "Trust me, they're better fresh."

Katniss reluctantly takes a bite of the fish, wrinkling her nose at the taste. Her hunger wins out though and she manages to eat the whole thing, washing it down with a bowl full of water. "It was salty!" she tells Finnick, which makes him laugh.

All of a sudden she looks over to the jungle wedge next to them and grabs her bow. "Someone's coming."

Finnick grabs his trident and ducks behind a tree, with the two girls lined up behind him. Two figures emerge from the tree line, one dragging the other by the hand.

"Come on!" a female voice says, sounding extremely impatient. Both figures are covered in something that looks like thick, red paint.

Cecelia's face lights up as Finnick calls out. "Johanna!" he says. Both he and Cecelia start running towards the red things.

"Finnick," Johanna says. "I got him out!" I look over at Haymitch to see him nodding his head.

"Is that Beetee?" Madge asks next to me.

"Looks like it," I say. For the first time since that fog attacked Katniss I'm starting to feel a little better. Beetee seems to be a pretty smart guy from what Haymitch has told us. I take another bite of my biscuit and a sip of the tea.

Katniss looks surprised to see Johanna and Beetee working together, but she doesn't say anything. She helps Beetee clean himself off in the water and starts to bandage a wound on his back.

"He took a knife in his back to grab the coil," I hear Johanna say to Finnick. "Then we were deep in the jungle where we thought we would be safe, and then the rain started. Only it wasn't rain. It was blood. Thick, hot, red blood, pouring down on us. We were stumbling around blind for a while, and it's a damn good thing we didn't hit the force field. Beetee managed to make it out just before my axe would have hit it."

"Johanna?" I say, looking at Haymitch. He nods his head and my eyebrows shoot up.

"Oh boy, this'll be good." Johanna and Katniss didn't seem to like each other very much when we visited District 7 on our Victory Tour. I honestly found her a little hard to take as well, but not as much as Katniss did.

Katniss finishes with Beetee and moves him back up the beach to lie down just as a huge wave starts rolling from the jungle opposite them. Finnick rushes to save the rest of the shellfish and Cecelia grabs the rest of their weapons to keep them from washing away as the water rolls over their feet.

"The wave," Beetee gasps out. "It happened last night too."

"Are you sure?" Katniss asks him skeptically. I can see the wheels turning in her head. The camera right then pans out to show a shot of the entire arena, showing the Cornucopia in the center with the spokes of land spreading out into the various sections of jungle. Perfectly spaced sections, each shaped like a piece of pie. Twelve pieces.

"What else did you guys see?" Katniss asks Beetee.

"Not much," he says. "Just the lightning and then the blood rain. But I could hear a loud sort of clicking sound from the jungle somewhere to the right of us once the rain stopped."

Katniss stares in the direction that the wave came from, her lips pursed and her head tilted, obviously thinking hard. I grab my sketchbook and pencil and draw a quick picture of the arena, labeling the various sections with the dangers that we've seen in them. Lightning. Blood rain. Fog. Monkeys. Wave. Clicking sound.

"Look!" I say triumphantly to Haymitch and Madge. "This is the arena! It's like-"

"It's a clock," Madge says, looking from the drawing to the television. "The arena is shaped like a clock, with a new threat every hour."

"It's a clock!" I repeat excitedly. "All they need to do is stay out of the active section and they should be safe! Right Haymitch?" He nods his head, looking impressed.

"That's a clever idea," he says, staring off into space for a moment.

My attention is quickly drawn back to the screen, as Katniss and her allies have started walking towards the Cornucopia. As they reach it and start picking over the remaining weapons, the screen splits into two and we see another tribute making his way slowly across a land spoke to the Cornucopia from the other direction. He's barefoot, limping, and missing a hand. It's Chaff.

"Looks like Chaff is trying to join up," I say evenly, looking over at Haymitch.

He nods his head. "He must have heard the group coming."

But then the screen splits into four, now also showing each of the two Career tributes advancing on the Cornucopia from different spokes, slightly behind Chaff. But Katniss and her allies haven't even noticed Chaff approaching yet, as they are busily trying to map out the arena in the sand covering the floor of the Cornucopia.

"Katniss, look out!" I cry out just as Chaff reaches the group of allies. Before he can even say a word he's impaled through his back by a spear, thrown by Brutus.

"The Careers are coming!" he manages to wheeze before he collapses. Katniss immediately spins around and loads an arrow, but Johanna quickly shoves her out of the way and tosses her axe, hitting Cashmere right in the chest. Brutus throws another spear towards Finnick, with Finnick managing to duck behind the Cornucopia just in time. Cecelia has grabbed Katniss and pulled her down, out of the line of fire. Finnick runs after Brutus, throwing his trident with his left hand, but misses as Brutus slides to the left and back into the water right at the last second.

Just then there's a loud, groaning noise and the Cornucopia starts to spin, slowly at first, then gaining speed as Johanna and Beetee and Finnick try frantically to hold on, dodging the remaining weapons as they come flying out towards the water. Katniss and Cecelia are relatively safe as they're right next to the horn, with Cecelia covering Katniss's body with her own.

Finally, the spinning starts to slow down and then stops, with the horn of the Cornucopia now pointing in a different direction than before. The Gamemakers apparently didn't like the fact that the tributes had figured out how the arena was working.

I look over at Haymitch. Chaff was his friend. "I'm so sorry, Haymitch," I mumble. Haymitch just holds up his hand and shakes his head.

"He probably knew he was a long shot," he says sadly.

"He died trying to help her," I say. "I'm very thankful for that." Haymitch nods and sniffs loudly, reaching into his pocket for his flask. He raises it in my direction and takes a long pull. I take another sip of my tea.

Katniss and the others seem to have regained their senses and start to move away from the Cornucopia back towards the jungle. They seem to be arguing over which direction to go based on where the sun is in the fake sky. They finally stop on the beach, right next to the tree line in what they believe to be the monkey wedge.

"I have a plan," I hear Beetee say.  Rye and Gale walk into the living room as the horn sounds throughout the district, indicating the start of mandatory viewing. Gale's clothes and hands are clean, but I can still make out traces of coal dust sprinkled in his dark hair. Rye's arms have flour caked on the elbows and under his fingernails as he plops down on the couch next to Madge and Gale takes the chair opposite the rest of us.

"Hey," I say, hardly taking my eyes off the screen. "The Everdeen's doing okay?"

"Yeah," Gale says. "The rest of my family's over there now. Mrs. E seems to be doing all right, she's knitting pretty much non-stop. And Rory's looking after Prim."

"What'd we miss?" Rye says, leaning over to kiss Madge on the cheek. "Katniss looks okay."

"Beetee says he has a plan to get rid of the last Career," I say, looking at him. "And Chaff and Cashmere are dead."

"Hmm. Sorry about Chaff, Haymitch," Gale says, turning his attention back to the screen.

"There's only Brutus left now, correct?" Beetee says to the group. Everyone nods their heads. "So, where would he feel safest?"

"Here, on the beach," Katniss replies. "Only we're here instead, so he's probably hiding in the tree line somewhere right now."

"Exactly," Beetee says, sounding excited. "And he's greatly outnumbered, so I propose-"

Just then I startle violently, spilling my lukewarm tea all over my lap as my own voice screams out in the arena. "KATNISS!! KATNISS!!" It sounds horrible, like I'm being tortured.

The effect is instantaneous. Katniss's face blanches completely white as she scrambles to her feet and runs directly into the jungle wedge behind the rest of the group. "Peeta!! Peeta, where are you?" she cries out, her voice sounding so desperate it causes me to crawl towards the television screen. Finnick has followed her into the wedge, calling her name, but she's so focused on my torturous, fake voice that she hasn't heard him.

"Katniss, it's not me! It's not real!" I yell, begging for her to hear me. The fake me is still calling for her, leading her deeper and deeper into the jungle. "KATNISS!!"

We all see it at pretty much the same time. The bird, flying around in a circle overhead in the jungle, with my voice calling Katniss's name. My voice is coming from the bird!

"It's a jabberjay," Gale exclaims. "The jabberjay is mimicking your voice."

"It needs to stop or it's going to get her killed!" I shriek back at him. Katniss finally grabs an arrow and shoots down the jabberjay, giving us both a moment of reprieve as Finnick catches up with her.

"You okay, Katniss?" he asks as two more of the birds appear overhead and start screaming. Only this time it's not my voice coming from the birds, it's the voice of what sounds like a young woman. Immediately the blood drains from Finnick's face and he starts running. "FINNICK!" the birds screech mercilessly. "FINNICK!"

"Annie!!" Finnick yells, looking up into the pink sky like he's expecting to see this Annie up there. "Annie, are you there?"

"Finnick, no," Katniss tries to tell him, her own grey eyes still wide in terror. "It's not her, it's just a jabberjay!"

"But how do you think they got that sound?" Finnick asks frantically. "Jabberjays copy!"

"Oh no," Katniss whispers, her eyes widening even more as at least fifty of the hateful birds converge on the two stunned tributes. My voice is joined by Annie's, then Prim's. Even Madge, Gale, and her mother join in the horrible chorus.

"Come on!" Finnick screams to Katniss, grabbing her arm and ducking as a bird flies right over his head, the sound of an older man on its beak. Katniss and Finnick start running as fast as they can back towards the beach, tears streaming down both of their faces as they try to avoid tripping over creepers and ducking to avoid the now dive-bombing birds. The screen splits in two to show Cecelia, Beetee, and Johanna as they just stand there waiting for their allies, their hands flat against the air.

"Why aren't they helping her?" I cry as I watch Katniss run full-bore with her shoulder into what looks like an invisible wall, separating her from the beach. A second later Finnick hits the wall with his face, causing blood to come spurting out of his nose and knocking him flat onto his back.

"Oh no," I whisper, as the birds settle into a flight pattern directly over Finnick and Katniss, the tortuous voices of everyone that they love coming from their throats. Finnick gives up right away, hunching over on the ground and clenching his hands over his ears. Katniss tries to fight for a while, shooting her entire quiver of arrows into the birds, but more and more keep coming and after a minute she too gives up and drops her bow in defeat.

"Peeta!!" she screams. "Peeta!!" She brings her knees up to her chest and starts rocking back and forth, her head wrapped tightly in her arms.

"It's not real, love, it's not real!" I say over and over, my hand on the television trying to cradle her face and tears running down my cheeks. My heart feels like it's been ripped from my chest and stomped on. I throw my teacup against the wall and hear it shatter all over the corner of the living room.

"Haymitch, make it stop!" I plead with him. "I can't watch her go through this anymore!" Haymitch doesn't say anything, he just slides onto the floor next to me and wraps his arms around my chest, holding my arms down at my sides like he did at the reaping.

"There's nothing we can do," he rasps into my ear. "It'll only last for an hour at the most."

"Aaaahhh!" I scream, at the same time as Katniss screams on the TV screen. I pull my head into my hands and start rocking back and forth, just like Katniss, willing for the terrible voices to stop.

 

GPOV

I about jumped out of my skin when Peeta threw his mug against the wall, causing it to shatter and splatter tea everywhere, but I'd live through that over and over again if I never have to see anything like those jabberjays ever again. Watching Catnip on the screen was bad enough, but watching Peeta be so desperate to help her and not being able to do a damn thing was even worse. I think I may be finally starting to understand a little of what he experienced in his arena.

Although really, this house has become his own version of the Quell arena. President Snow is really smarter than I gave him credit for. There's no physical or mental torture that I can think of that could compare to Peeta having to watch Katniss go through this arena without him.

Finally, the hour is up and the mother hen, Cecelia, picks Katniss up like she's a little girl and carries her back to the beach, holding her in her arms and rocking her gently until Katniss finally begins to relax.

"They have Peeta! They have Peeta and they're hurting him!" she gasps. Her face still looks terrified, like those birds are going to be back any minute. I've seen Catnip stare down foxes and coyotes and wild dogs before, and I've never seen her look this frightened.

"No they don't, honey," Cecelia says, running her hands over Katniss's back soothingly. "That was only his voice. I'm sure Peeta's fine."

"Cecelia is right, Katniss," Beetee chimes in. Johanna has taken Finnick down to the water and is sitting next to him, talking quietly. "Peeta's voice has been recorded dozens of times. It's very easy to take a recording and distort it like that. In Three, our schoolchildren learn how to do that by the third grade."

Katniss just stares up at Beetee for a few seconds, then swipes at her eyes and nods. Cecelia gives her one more hug and sets her down on the ground. Then she stands up and starts moving towards the jungle.

"Don't go in there!" Katniss cries out hysterically. "The birds!" Cecelia walks back over and crouches down next to Katniss, putting her hand on Katniss's face.

"I heard them, right before that barrier slammed down. I heard the voices of my sons and my daughter. But they weren't real. They were just recordings, right?" Katniss finally nods. "I'm just going to get you some water and find your arrows, and then I'll be back. Okay?"

Katniss nods again. "Okay," she whispers.

Peeta finally calms down enough for Haymitch to move him back onto the couch. Rye goes to fetch the dustpan to clean up the shattered tea mug, and Madge heads to the kitchen, coming back to pass around bowls of potato soup and pieces of dark bread. Peeta accepts the bowl of soup and bread, but doesn't move to actually eat any of it.

Finnick and Katniss have seemingly regained their senses after drinking some water and resting for a while. Finnick goes to work on gathering some more shellfish to eat, bringing them to Johanna to clean. Beetee checks over his wire coil, and Katniss cleans off her arrows. They all eat a meal of those nasty-looking, slimy oysters and more of those weird nuts that Cecelia found their first night. I'm really glad right now that I don't live in District 4. At least I know how to cook the rabbits and squirrels that I kill.

"Hey Johanna," Katniss says in between mouthfuls of nuts. "Who's Annie?"

"Annie Cresta," Johanna answers. "She's another Victor from Four. She won four or five years ago, if I remember correctly. Finnick...Finnick looks after her."

"Is she the one who went a little...strange?" Katniss asks.

"Yeah," Johanna answers, with a melancholy tone in her voice. "Love is weird."

She's got that right. If you told me two years ago that my Catnip, my 'I'm never getting married', emotionally stunted Catnip would fall in love and actually marry a Merchant kid, I'd have laughed in your face. Loudly.

"Annie Cresta is the one who went nuts when her District partner was beheaded, right?" Rye asks Haymitch.

"Yeah," Haymitch says. "She only won because she was the best swimmer, after her arena was flooded. Her Games and Cecelia's Games were considered the least exciting Games ever. That's one reason why we never see too much of either of them. Last year's Games though, well, the ratings on the repeats of the 74th are the highest they've ever been for any of them, even the previous Quells."

"Peeta, you need to eat," Madge says gently, as the tributes have finished their meal and are now sitting in a circle listening to Beetee talk about his wire coil. He starts laying out some elaborate-sounding plan about wrapping the wire around the lightning tree and using the electric charge from the lightning to hopefully electrocute the last Career tribute. That would just leave the allied tributes left, leaving them open for the potential rescue.

"What is he even saying?" Rye asks Haymitch. Beetee is trying hard to explain his convoluted plan, but I don't even think any of the tributes can completely understand what he's talking about. "It seems like an awfully complicated plan just to kill one tribute."

"Just keep watching," Haymitch says, and gives us a knowing look. I guess it really only matters if Beetee understands his plan, as long as it works.

Johanna and Finnick go to lay down once Beetee is finished, with Katniss and Cecelia taking watch. Katniss sits watching the water with Cecelia watching the jungle. The two girls just sit in silence for a while until Katniss clears her throat awkwardly.

"Cecelia, do you mind if I ask you a question?" she says softly.

"Sure honey, what's on your mind?" Cecelia answers.

"It's sort of personal," Katniss says, looking down at her hand which is playing with the sand near her feet.

"That's fine, I don't mind," Cecelia says.

"What made you decide to have kids? I mean, you know they could be reaped someday, right? Aren't you afraid, of losing them?"

Cecelia chuckles slightly. "Well, my first was a bit of a surprise. Those things can happen sometimes," and she blushes and looks down. "But then, once he was born, it was like I experienced a whole different kind of love that I never thought could exist, especially where I come from. My husband and I were both shocked at how you can go from being content with just the two of you to realizing just how empty your life was before that child was born. After that, well, we sort of became addicted to the happiness that they brought us, how rich they made our lives seem. You know, my Games were considered to be very boring to watch, so my life as a Victor hasn't really been too different that it was before the Games. I won when I was 17, and actually managed to win without killing anyone. My husband, once he cleared his last reaping, was a manager for one of the big textile factories in Eight."

She pauses for a minute. "And as for me worrying about them getting reaped, well, I try not to think too much about it. My oldest would be reaping age next year. But see, they could just as easily be killed in a bus accident on their way to school, or get sick, or hurt themselves some other way. I can't dwell on what could happen or I'd be miserable all the time. You can't always be dwelling on the dark clouds. Life is much more enjoyable when you find the sunbeams instead."

"But now, don't you worry about leaving them without a mother? If you don't make it home?" Katniss asks, her voice quivering.

"Yeah, I do," Cecelia answers with a sigh. "But they have so many people who love them. They have grandparents, and aunts and uncles, and the other couple Victors in Eight who are sort of like adoptive aunts and uncles. And they know how much I love them because I tell them every day. Even if I die tomorrow, or tonight, I know they'll be okay. They'll miss me, and I miss them, so very much. But they are strong, and they'll be okay. And they know...I'm doing this for them."

Katniss is silent for a while, processing what Cecelia has said. Peeta has abandoned any pretense of eating his soup and places the bowl on the floor, his eyes never leaving the screen.

"I always said I never wanted kids," Katniss says quietly, still running sand through her fingers. Then she smiles slightly. "But I also said I never wanted to get married, and well, that changed."

"That tends to happen when you fall in love," Cecelia says, patting Katniss on the shoulder. Katniss smiles again and looks down at the ring on her finger.

"Yeah," she says. "That's definitely true."

"Did you and Peeta know each other well before your Games?" Cecelia asks.

Katniss hesitates for a minute before answering. "No, not well," she says, so quietly that I have to strain to hear her. "But he saved my life, when I was eleven years old. My dad was killed when a coal mine exploded, and my mom... my mom got really sick after he died, and she couldn't work for a while. My sister and I, we were starving, and Peeta..." She pauses to swipe at her eyes. I can hear Peeta sniffling as tears roll down his face.

"Peeta's dad is the baker in Twelve, and Peeta, he saw me one day, walking out in the rain. I was so hungry, we hadn't eaten in days. And he saw me, and he gave me some bread from the bakery. And I took it home, and my sister and I and our mom ate an entire loaf of bread for dinner that night. And the next day I saw him at school, and he had a bruise under his eye. He... he had walked into the oven door, by accident. And I wanted to thank him but I was too afraid to talk to him. I was afraid it would embarrass him if I tried to talk to him. But after that I sort of always kept track of him. He reminded me of a dandelion, so I call him my dandelion in the spring. My mom was able to get better after a while, and my sister and I were okay after that. But without Peeta, and the bread he gave me, I would have lost all hope."

I hear Rye scoff from the couch. "He didn't walk into the oven," he says bitterly. "Mom hit him. I saw it."

"I burned that bread on purpose," Peeta says quietly, rubbing at his eyes. "To give to her. Mom didn't like it. She told me to feed it to the pig."

"You saved her life," I say to Peeta. He looks at me and nods. "I never knew. She never told me that story."

"She never even told me that story," Peeta says quietly. "Not like that." Then he turns his face back to the television. "I love you, Katniss."

"Peeta sounds like a wonderful young man," Cecelia is saying now on the television.

Katniss smiles again, that shy smile that I've only seen her smile around Peeta. "I know," she says. "I'm very lucky."

"No Katniss," Peeta whispers. "I'm the lucky one."

Johanna and Finnick have woken up now.  With dusk approaching, after the group eats some more shellfish and water they head out in the direction of what they're calling the lightning tree. Beetee examines the tree closely when they arrive, walking around it and muttering to himself. Then he and Finnick start wrapping the fine, golden wire around the trunk and through the lower branches. This takes a couple of hours, with Peeta not taking his eyes off the screen the entire time.

Finally, Beetee moves to hand Katniss the wire coil. "You and Johanna take this now," he says. "Unspool it carefully, and then make sure the entire coil is in the water, do you understand?" Katniss nods her head, looking sad but determined. I can guess what she's thinking. Once Brutus is dead, she'll want to head out on her own since she doesn't know about the rescue plan. But heading out on her own right now is probably the worst thing she could do.

"Finnick and Cecelia will stay here as my guards," Beetee is saying. "So she needs your knife, Katniss. Is that okay?"

Catnip looks troubled at the thought of giving up one of her weapons, but she hands it over anyway. "All right," she says quietly.

"It's okay, Katniss," Peeta says loudly to the screen. "It's okay!"

"C'mon, Brainless," Johanna says to Katniss. "Let's go. I really don't want to be holding this thing when that lightning hits."

Katniss takes one more long look at the tree, then turns to follow Johanna. They make good time walking through the jungle, taking turns guarding and uncoiling the wire. But then after about ten minutes, the screen suddenly splits in half and we see that Brutus has started following the wire and is rapidly catching up to the two girls.

"Oh God," Peeta cries, as we see Brutus jam his spearhead into the wire and cut it. "Katniss, he's behind you!"

Katniss realizes that the wire's been cut and immediately drops the coil, grabbing her bow and loading an arrow. But Johanna picks up the coil and knocks Katniss over the head with it. She then pins Katniss down and takes the tip of her axe blade and cuts Katniss's left arm, smearing the blood all over her neck and chest. "Stay down," she hisses to Katniss. She throws the axe in her hand towards Brutus, but he's able to duck behind a tree to avoid it. Brutus then takes one look at Katniss and runs back after Johanna in the direction of the lightning tree.

"Crap!" Rye exclaims. "What'd she do that for?"

"Haymitch, what is she doing?!" Peeta shrieks, looking at the older man with his jaw gaping and his eyes wide. "Katniss is hurt!!"

"She's all right, Boy," Haymitch tosses over his shoulder, not taking his eyes off the screen. But I can tell something's gone wrong. Haymitch sounds worried.

"Katniss, get up!" Peeta is pleading now. "Get up, love, you have to get up."

But Katniss is obviously a bit out of it from being hit over the head. She sits up slowly and groans, looking at the blood running down her left arm. She touches the back of her head gingerly. "What?" she says, as we hear shouting voices coming from off the screen, back in the direction of the tree.

"Haymitch!" Peeta yells again, but Haymitch acts like he hasn't heard him. He hasn't taken his eyes off the screen.

Then Haymitch shakes his head and turns to look directly at me. "Gale," he says grimly, flicking his eyes towards Peeta, who is running his hands through his hair like he's trying to rip it out.

My stomach sinks down into my feet. I nod once in understanding.

"Peeta," Katniss mumbles, still sitting up but swaying dangerously. "Peeta, I don't think-" and she leans over and vomits everything that she's eaten in the past twelve hours and lays right back down. Those gross oysters don't look any better coming back up.

"Katniss, you have to get up!" Peeta cries. "Please love, just get up!"

The screen splits again just in time for us to see a shower of sparks coming from the direction of the lightning tree. Katniss must notice the sparks, as she grabs her bow and slowly pushes herself to her feet, using a tree for support. She starts stumbling, half sideways, back in the direction of the lightning tree to where Beetee is lying unconscious with Katniss's knife next to him wrapped up in the golden wire. Cecelia is lying a few feet away, gasping, with a massive hole in her chest.

"Cecelia!" Katniss gasps as she arrives at the dying woman's side. Cecelia brings her hand up to cup Katniss's cheek.

"I hope my daughter grows up like you," she whispers to Katniss. "Tell my children, that I did this for them. And that I love them."

A tear falls from Katniss's cheek onto Cecelia's face. "Okay," Katniss whispers. "I'll tell them." Cecelia smiles one last time and closes her eyes. A few seconds later the cannon fires.

Another boom of the cannon startles Katniss, and she crawls over to check on Beetee. "Beetee," she says, rolling him over. But he's still breathing, so the cannon obviously wasn't meant for him.

"Katniss!!" another voice rings out. Katniss grabs her bow and loads an arrow, moving to crouch down into a nearby clump of grass. After a few seconds Finnick Odair runs into the clearing by the lightning tree. He stops short when he sees Katniss's arrow aimed right at him.

"Katniss," he says cautiously, raising his hands up in a surrender position. "Remember, not everything in the Capitol is how it appears! Think of who the real enemy is!"

Katniss stares at him, still affected by the blow to her head, trying to decide if she should believe Finnick or not.

"Katniss," Peeta whispers. "Katniss, it's okay."

Then I notice the lightning starting to streak across the sky. It's almost time for the lightning storm to begin. Katniss looks down at the knife wrapped up in the wire, then over a few feet where there's a loose section of the wire in a pile on the ground. She looks up to the sky and back down at the wire. Then she reaches down and grabs the loose wire and wraps it around one her arrows, pointing it towards the ceiling of the arena.

"Oh no," I whisper.

"Katniss, get away from that tree!" Peeta yells, at the same exact time as Finnick.

But she doesn't. And just as the first bolt of lightning reaches down from the sky and strikes the tree, she lets the arrow fly, right into the top of the arena. The shock from the massive bolt of lightning throws both Katniss and Finnick back several yards as the camera follows the path of the arrow, flying up and up until it makes contact with the ceiling.

A collective gasp goes around the room as we all wait. A couple seconds later a shock wave ripples down the forcefield, causing it to flicker out and reveal the actual dark sky sprinkled with stars. Then a couple more seconds of silence pass before the lightning tree bursts into flames.

And then the unthinkable happens. I hear a huge cracking sound echo throughout the arena, right before a huge piece of the ceiling breaks free and crashes down to the ground, only a few yards from where Katniss lies immobilized from the lightning blast. Madge gasps as another piece of ceiling falls on the other side of her.

"Katniss," Peeta pleads, not able to hold back his sobs. "You need to move. You need to get up!"

Haymitch looks right at me, and it's like he's aged twenty years in the last twenty seconds. He shakes his head, but I shake my head right back at him.

"No!" I yell, tears welling in my own eyes now. "Catnip, get up! You have to get up!"

"Why isn't she getting up?" Rye asks, looking at Haymitch.

Peeta has crawled over to the television screen and has his hand on it, right over Katniss's face.

"Don't you leave me!!" he screams.

_But she's not only leaving you. She's leaving all of us._

And then a third piece of the ceiling comes crashing down right on top of the lightning tree. A flaming branch breaks off and skids to a landing right next to Katniss's left side, and we all watch in horror as a spark flies off of the burning branch and lands right on her arm.

But this is no ordinary fire. This tree and this fire was designed by the Gamemakers to injure or kill any tribute who came too close to it during the lightning storm. And so this spark, which ordinarily would have just left a small mark, instead causes her skin to catch fire, quickly spreading up from her left arm and across her chest.

"No!!" Peeta screams, over and over again. Haymitch looks at me and I slide off my chair and over to Peeta, wrapping my arms around him.

"She's gone," I say, struggling against Peeta trying to break free from me and not even noticing the tears falling down my face. "It's over, she's gone!"

"Don't you say that!!" Peeta yells as his elbow connects painfully with my ribs. "Don't you dare say that! She's not yours to lose!! She promised to come back to me!! She promised!!"

And then, as if she heard him, Katniss slowly turns her head to the side, looking right into the camera, the mutt flames still dancing across her skin.

"Peeta," she says. "I'm sorry, Peeta. I love..."

And her eyes close just as the screen goes black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm geekymoviemom on tumblr too, come and say hi! :)


	43. After the Quell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We will hear from Madge in this chapter. :)

MPOV

"Do you know when the last time was that he ate anything?" I ask Rye as we're getting dressed in the morning.

Rye shakes his head. "I haven't even seen him come out of his studio since..." and his voice trails off.

Since Katniss shot that arrow up to the top of the Quell arena is what he means. Since she was flung backward by the force of the lightning hitting that tree. Since the burning tree branch was sheared off by the falling pieces of the arena roof. Since the sparks from the tree branch landed right on top of her as she was immobilized from the electrical shock. Since the resulting fire seemed to consume her as the power drained from the arena and the TV went black, right after she turned her head one last time and looked like she was trying to speak.

Since Peeta broke Gale's nose to get free from his grasp, and practically ripped all the hair out of his head as he stumbled up the stairs into his studio and locked the door.

That was three days ago.

Rye and I sat outside the studio door for several hours afterwards, listening to him scream Katniss's name in agony and throw things against the walls. Rye was fairly certain there wasn't anything in there that Peeta could use to harm himself, but we didn't want to leave him completely alone either. Once he quieted down a little Rye picked the lock on the door so we could check on him. We found him sprawled out on the floor, covered in red paint, with his head lying on top of one of his paintings of Katniss. He was unconscious but breathing normally, so we put a blanket over him, left him a cup of water, and left him alone. I've checked on him a couple of times since then and he's been pretty much unresponsive. He's at least been drinking the water I've left for him, but otherwise he's just been a shell of himself, not noticing when I come or go.

"I'll try making some cinnamon rolls," Rye says as we head down the stairs. "They're his favorite, or at least they used to be. Maybe he'll eat one."

I nod and squeeze his arm as we reach the kitchen. "That's a good idea."

There's been no question that Rye and I wouldn't leave Peeta's house now that the Quell is over. Peeta could barely take care of himself during the Quell, but now, well, I'm not exactly sure how we're going to be able to help him, but leaving him all alone in this house is definitely not it.

I fill and put the tea kettle on the stove as Rye starts pulling ingredients out of the pantry. I don't remember when I've felt this helpless. Even when Mom has one of her horrible headaches I always know how I can help her. Or at least, how we could help her, if the Capitol would allow us to take her to the doctors there. But they never have. So we just shoot a bunch of morphling into her and hope that once she wakes up the headache is better.

Now though, I really don't know what to do. If we're not careful, Peeta will just waste away to nothing up there in that studio, and I know that's not what Katniss would want for him. Rye's tried talking to him. Their dad's tried talking to him. We even had Gale try to talk to him, but Peeta didn't respond at all. Haymitch has tried too, but when Peeta heard his voice he threw something so hard at the door that it splintered the top panel. Other than that he hasn't responded to anyone. It's like he's just shut down.

Rye slides the tray of rolls into the oven just as the kettle whistles on the stove, so I pour the hot water over the tea leaves and sit down at the table, adding a bit of sugar to both mugs. We sit in silence, one hand holding each other's and our other hands wrapped around the mugs. We don't say anything. There's really nothing more to say right now. We sit like that until the oven timer goes off, causing us both to jump.

The smell of cinnamon is wafting through the house as I make my way back up the stairs. I pause at the door to the studio and take a deep breath before knocking once. I can hear mumbling coming from inside the room, but no heavy footsteps approach to open the cracked door. I knock again and wait. The mumbling continues. I take another deep breath and test the doorknob. To my surprise it's unlocked.

As the door swings open I step into the room and see Peeta. He's curled up on the floor with paint caked in his hair and smeared all over his face and hands. He has his knees pressed tightly to his chest and his arms wrapped around his head, rocking back and forth slightly as he speaks.

"My name is Peeta Mellark. I'm 17 years old. I live in District 12. I was in the Hunger Games. Katniss is my wife. Katniss was reaped for the Quell. They think she is dead. I wish I was dead."

He repeats this twice more before I'm able to move. All around him spread out on the floor are paintings of her. Her as a small child, wearing a red plaid dress with two braids in her hair, holding tightly to a man's hand. Her crouched on the ground underneath an apple tree in the rain, looking gaunt and broken. Her at the reaping for the 74th Games. Her at the interview with Caesar before their Games. Her face partially covered by strands of hair that had escaped from a braid, wearing a look of concentration. A pair of hands diligently cleaning a horrible looking wound. Her wearing the blue dress from the party at my house. Her on the Victory Tour. Her face resting on a pillow with her hair spread out like a fan around her head. Two hands, a man's and a woman's, reaching desperately to hold the other.

They are absolutely beautiful paintings. Beautiful and haunting.

"These are beautiful," I say quietly, my voice thick with the tears I'm trying to choke back in. He raises his head at the sound, but doesn't look up.

"I could never get her eyes quite right," he says, his voice raspy from disuse and barely loud enough for me to hear. "I would spend hours trying to mix the color of her eyes, somewhere between silver and grey, but I could never get it quite right. Sometimes it would be too silver, and sometimes too grey, and I would get so frustrated, and she would laugh at me for it..." his voice trails off then and his head drops back down against his knees.

Tears now roll freely down my cheeks as I study the paintings of the girl I once considered to be my only true friend. I want to tell him that I miss her too, that he's not the only one who loves her, that we are all grieving along with him. But it's not the same and it's too soon for him to hear those things. I know our sorrow isn't the same. I know that we can't really understand what he's feeling right now. Because while we all love her in our own way; as a sister, a friend, a daughter, or a mentee, no one else loves her like he does. No one else can know how he's suffering right now. No one knows his pain except him. And we won't be able to really help him until he lets us.

So instead of telling him all of these things, I simply put my hand on his shoulder as gently as I can. He flinches at my touch but doesn't pull away. We stay there for a few minutes saying nothing until he flinches again and I know he's had enough. He starts rocking and chanting again, and I realize that he's telling me to leave him now, until the next time when he can allow another couple of minutes of human contact. Whenever that might be.

I take the hint and turn to leave the room. "Rye made some cinnamon rolls, if you get hungry later," I say softly. His movements pause just long enough for me to realize that he heard me, and I step back into the hallway, closing the door behind me.

Rye only has to look at me when I get back downstairs to know that the visit didn't go well. "That bad, huh?" he asks, moving from the couch to wrap his arms around my waist.

"He's hardly even coherent," I whisper, more tears streaming down my face. I lean my head against Rye's chest and hug him to me. I can't help but be grateful that he's here with me, alive. Then I pull back and look up at him.

"I think you should take the day off today, and when Haymitch gets here you two should clean Peeta up. He's got paint caked in his hair, Rye, and he doesn't even know it. It's all over his face, and his hands, and he hasn't changed his clothes or eaten since..." my voice fades away as another sob chokes it's way out of my throat.

Rye hugs me tighter and I feel him exhale. "I'll go call the General Store," he says finally. "See if Ban can do me a favor and cover for me today. Seeing as how he hasn't even bothered to come and check on Peeta at all himself." Rye spits out the last part of the sentence. Then he hugs me close again before moving into the bedroom/study to use the telephone.

I can hear him talking angrily on the phone to his older brother. Bannock must be giving Rye a hard time about covering for him. I know Bannock doesn't enjoy baking that much, and he has to get up even earlier than his dad to get the store ready to open in the mornings, but I don't really care. Peeta's his brother too and we haven't heard a single thing from Ban since a couple of days before the Quell started.

I hear the phone slam down and Rye stomps out of the room looking furious. "Don't tell me he refused to help," I say in a threatening voice. "I'll stomp my way over to that store and drag Bannock over to the bakery myself if I have to."

"No, he finally agreed, but geez, he gave me such a hard time about it," Rye says. "I finally told him either he could come over here and wrestle Peeta into the bathtub, or he could bake some bread for a few hours this afternoon like he used to and let me deal with our grieving and broken little brother who's filthy and starving himself. He called me a few choice words after that, but at he agreed to cover for me."

"All right then," I say. "Haymitch will be here later today. He and Hazelle were going to check in on the Everdeens before he comes over here."

Haymitch arrives about three hours later, looking like he hasn't slept in three days either. We just stand there, staring at each other for a while before he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his signal jammer.

"I'm not sure exactly what went wrong," he says quietly. "There's been absolutely no communication from anyone since the end of the Quell. No messages, no signals, nothing. I don't know where anyone is, or if by some miracle Sweetheart survived somehow...". He looks away as his voice breaks. "But I'll let you know as soon as I know something."

I nod my head. "It'd be nice, if we could even have Katniss back, just to bury her," I say grimly. "It might help Peeta to have some closure. Right now, he's just... he just doesn't know what to do."

Haymitch nods his head, his greasy hair falling into his eyes. He needs a bath almost as badly as Peeta does.

"How is Katniss's family doing?" Rye asks. "I wasn't sure if they would want to see me or not, and I knew you and the Hawthornes were checking on them."

Haymitch sniffs. "They're doing okay," he says. "Lilly didn't think Katniss would come back from her first Games, so she sort of let her go then. Then when she did come home, Lilly didn't really know what to do. Now, she's just sort of numb. And Prim, well, Prim will be okay eventually. But they are clean, and eating, and otherwise okay."

"That's good," I say. "I'm glad they're going to be all right. But I'm really worried about Peeta, Haymitch. He hasn't eaten or changed or really slept since before the end of the Quell. You and Rye need to clean him up, he's covered in paint right now, and I'm sure his leg isn't doing well. He hasn't taken his prosthesis off in over two weeks."

Haymitch nods. "I owe him that."

"All right then," Rye says. "I have the day off today, let's go up there now."

We trudge back up the stairs and open the door to the studio. Peeta has uncurled himself and is now lying on his side on the floor, his paint-crusted hand resting on the painting of Katniss's face lying on the pillow. His eyes are open but staring straight ahead. He doesn't move at all as we enter the room.

"Peeta," I say gently, not wanting to startle him. "Rye and Haymitch are here. They're going to help you clean up before we all eat something. Is that okay?"

He doesn't answer for a long time. "C'mon buddy, let us help you," Rye pleads. "I really don't think Katniss would want you to be like this."

Still nothing.

Finally, just when Rye moves to pick him up anyway his hand twitches. "I'll allow it," he mumbles.

"All right then," Rye says firmly, and gathers him up with Haymitch's help. He's probably lost about fifteen pounds already since Katniss left. I head immediately into the bathroom in the studio to start the bath.

"I'll go grab some clean clothes for him," I tell Rye once the water is running.

It takes the two men over thirty minutes to scrub Peeta down and wash all of the paint out of his hair. He doesn't say a word the entire time, he just stares straight ahead. After they're done they bring him downstairs and sit him on the couch with his prosthetic off. Then Haymitch polishes off a couple cinnamon rolls and heads back to his own house, after promising again to let us know as soon as he hears anything.

"The skin on his bad leg looks terrible," Rye says quietly to me. "Do you have any idea what we could put on it?"

I shake my head. "No," I say, feeling helpless. "I would think keeping his prosthesis off for a while should help."

"There's some vanilla-scented cream in the bathroom down here," Rye says. "Maybe rub some of that on it?"

"Yeah, it can't hurt I don't think," I reply.

Surprisingly, Peeta doesn't protest when I rub some of the cream onto his red and raw-looking skin. He's also able to eat a couple pieces of bread and drink some water, although I have to encourage him to eat every bite and take every sip. He flat out refuses the cinnamon rolls.

"I want to go to sleep now," he whispers after he's finished the cup of water. "Can you go and get my picture of my Katniss?"

Rye helps him into the bedroom as I fetch the painting of Katniss from the studio floor. He takes it and hugs it to his chest before laying down and closing his eyes.

"Maybe he'll start to get a little better now," Rye says later as we get ready for bed.

"I hope so," I reply sadly.

But he really doesn't. Days continue to go by, and I still have to practically feed Peeta myself to get him to eat anything. Gale comes over every couple of days after his mining shifts to help Rye get Peeta into the shower and change his clothes. Peeta spends hours holding Katniss's picture to his chest and staring off into space. The skin on his stump gets worse and worse. He won't even look at Haymitch when he comes by. I even ask Mrs. Everdeen to come and look at him, feeling horrible about disturbing her when she's trying to mourn as well. But Peeta doesn't even respond to her. She leaves us with a salve to rub on Peeta's leg, but as soon as Peeta sees it he flips out and refuses to let me apply it on him.

"No!" he cries, curling up into a ball and sounding like a wounded animal. "Only Katniss can do that. Only she can use that. Get it away from me!"

It's another week later when, at the end of our rope, we ask Mrs. Everdeen to dose Peeta with some sleep syrup. She had told us earlier that she'd rather him not use it, since she was afraid he would become even more agitated and possibly hurt himself. She'd said it could essentially trap him in one of his nightmares, but she finally agrees that we're pretty much out of other options at this point. Peeta isn't sleeping more than a couple of fitful hours per night. The rest of the time he spends crying or walking around the house, which is keeping me and especially Rye awake as well. It's to the point where Rye's so exhausted while he's trying to work at the bakery that he's putting himself and his dad at risk of getting hurt. Every day he comes home with new burns on his hands and arms from forgetting to use the oven mitts or stoking the oven fire too carelessly.

But as we get ready for bed there's an uneasy feeling in the air. Life in Twelve has pretty much returned to normal since the Quell ended, but lately in the last few days I've noticed some slight differences. Several of the Peacekeeper corps seem to be smaller. Gale reports that the district fence is turned off almost all the time now. These changes, while on the surface would seem to be favorable, strike an almost ominous tone. The fact that Haymitch still hasn't heard a single word about the whereabouts of Katniss's body, or anything about the fledgling revolution also makes me pause.

So as I coax Peeta to drink his water spiked with the sleep syrup, I can't help the twinge that goes up my spine that something bad is going to happen. Soon.


	44. Retaliation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll hear from Rye in this chapter.

RPOV

I'm startled awake by a loud pounding on the front door that nearly makes me jump out of my skin. Bolting upright and rubbing my eyes, I reach down onto the floor to grab my discarded sweatpants. Madge sits up, holding the sheet up to her neck and looking confused.

"Rye, what's going on?" she asks.

"I don't know, but stay here until I can figure it out," I say, kissing her forehead and stumbling out of the room.  As I clamber down the stairs the pounding increases in volume and I can hear a muffled voice outside.

"Mellark!! Open the door!!" the voice screams like it's trying to wake up the entire district.

I skid to the bottom of the steps and unlock and throw open the door, stopping Gale mid-pound. I gape at him for a couple of seconds before finding my voice. "Gale, what are you doing here at this hour?" I demand. "What the hell is going on?"

Behind him on the porch I can vaguely make out Gale's younger brother and sister, looking scared with rucksacks hanging off their shoulders.

"Every Peacekeeper in the entire district just pulled out about ten minutes ago, and the power is out too," Gale says, trying to catch his breath as he speaks. "Something bad's gonna happen, and we need to get away from here right now."

I stare at him again for a couple of seconds trying to process what he's said. Six months ago I wouldn't have followed this guy anywhere, much less listened to him after he was pounding on my front door like a madman in the middle of the night. But now...

"Okay," I say, trying to sound more calm than I feel. "Okay. What do we need to do?"

Gale pushes past me into the house, his brother and sister close behind him. "Gather up as much food and clothing as you can carry and follow me," he says grimly. "We're heading for the woods. My mom and Rory are at the Everdeen's right now getting them ready."

Nodding, I race back up the stairs to get Madge. "We need to go, right now," I tell her as I burst back into the bedroom and start pulling on a shirt. "Get dressed and pack up one bag for me and one bag for you. I'm gonna go get Peeta ready." With not one word of protest Madge jumps out of bed and goes right to the closet, pulling out our rucksacks.

"You go help Peeta. I've got this," she says.

I pause for a second to look at her, wondering how with everything going to hell lately I got so lucky as to get her to love me. I give her a quick but hard kiss on the lips before hurrying out the door.

Gale's brother and sister are packing some food into their bags when I arrive in the kitchen. "Gale, you gotta help me get Peeta," I say quickly. "Mrs. Everdeen gave him some sleep syrup last night so he won't be much help right now."

Gale nods once and we move across the kitchen and into the downstairs bedroom. Peeta is asleep on the small bed, mumbling and thrashing around, apparently trapped in one of his nightmares. It's going to be dangerous waking him but we have no choice.

I reach him and shake his shoulder. "Peet, Peeta, you have to wake up. We have to go," I say in a loud whisper. "We have to go right now." His thrashing gets more violent but he doesn't wake up. "Peeta! Wake up buddy, we have to go now!" I yell. Still he doesn't wake up.

"We don't have time for this," Gale grumbles next to me. "You get his leg attached and I'm going to get some cold water."  He heads into the bathroom, returning with a cup of water and throws it right in Peeta's face, soaking his shirt and the pillow under his head.

Peeta opens his eyes with a loud cry and swings with his fist, only narrowly missing my head as I'm bending over trying to attach his prosthetic under his pant leg. His eyes meet mine and they look vacant, like he's lost his mind. He blinks a couple of times before he seems to figure out that it's me sitting on the bed with him.

"Rye?" he sputters. "What the hell?"

"We need to go Peeta, right now. There's no time to explain," I say. He stares at me with that dazed look while I finish with his leg and start hoisting him up into a sitting position. I yank off his soaking wet shirt and grab a clean t-shirt out of the dresser. Gale is grabbing clothes and stuffing them into his bag. I hurry to get Peeta's shoes on and heave him up onto his feet. He sways dangerously but manages to stay upright.

"Right," Gale says. "We need to go now."

We hurry back to the kitchen and find Posy, Vick, and Madge looking alert and ready to go. Clomping our way towards the front door I stop to grab a knife before looking around the house one last time. With Madge and I both supporting Peeta under his arms, we head out the door and down the front steps. Mrs. Everdeen, Prim, Rory, Hazelle, and Haymitch are all waiting for us, loaded down with supplies, looking scared but determined.

Gale makes his way to the front of our group. "This way," he says, pointing in the direction of the fence.

My heart leaps in my chest. "Wait!" I shout. "What about my parents, and my brother, and the rest of the Townspeople?" I guess I had assumed Gale had already gathered them before heading to Victor's Village.

"My mining crew is knocking on doors in Town," Gale snaps back, obviously impatient. "They won't forget to grab your family! Now let's go!" he yells, pointing again towards the fence and the woods beyond.

We make it to the fence and pull it down, since it's no longer electrified with all of the power out in the district. Rushing into the woods, I can hear the voices of other people coming from the direction of Town and the Seam, all of them sounding as frantic as Gale.

"We need to find the bows and arrows," Gale says, moving effortlessly through the dark forest and heading for the hollow tree where the weapons are hidden. I can tell he's getting more and more frustrated with our slow pace, but Peeta is still too out of it to walk on his own and he's too heavy for me to carry with everything else I'm trying to haul.

"Gale, you need to slow down a little!" I say to him, panting with the effort of having to practically drag my little brother who's pretty much the same size as me. "Peeta can't walk on his own yet. He's still pretty out of it from the sleep syrup."

Gale whips his head around and glares at me hard. "What the hell did he take sleep syrup for then?"

Now I'm furious. Like he doesn't know what Peeta's going through right now. "Maybe because he hasn't slept in over two weeks, and when he did he would keep the rest of us awake most of the night with his screaming!" I shout at him. "You know what he's going through!"

Gale finally looks contrite, and slows his pace down a little. "How long till it wears off?"

I can only shake my head, I really have no idea. "I don't know."

"It usually lasts about eight hours," Mrs. Everdeen pipes up as they catch up to us. "He's got about four hours left."

"Here then," Gale says. "Give me your rucksack to carry and you carry Peeta. We need to move as far away from the district as possible."

Madge holds Peeta up as I shrug out of my rucksack and hand it to Gale, who attaches it to his front. Then I crouch down and pick Peeta up like I'm going to pin him, but instead throw him over my shoulder like a sack of flour.

"You okay?" Gale asks.

"I'm fine. Lead the way."

We reach the hollow log where the bows and arrows are hidden just as the first hoverplanes roar overhead. The shockwave from the first bomb hitting the district is hard enough to send Peeta and me and everyone else sprawling to the ground. A chorus of shrieks goes up as the planes circle back around.

"Everyone move!" Gale screams as loud as he can to be heard over the deafening sound of the bombers. "Into the forest!!"

We all start running as best as we can before the next bomb hits and we're all strewn back onto the ground. This happens three or four more times before we're finally far enough away to escape the shockwaves. We reach the clump of rocks where we met in the forest that day after Katniss and Peeta got home from their Victory Tour and Gale stops.

"We can stop here for now," he says, breathing heavily. "But tomorrow we'll have move deeper, and find a water source."

"All right," I breathe out as I ease Peeta down, propping him up against one of the rocks. He immediately brings his knees up to his chest and starts rocking back and forth. Another bomb explodes in the distance, causing him to jump and raise his head.

"No!!" he screams. "I have to get to Katniss!! The fireballs are going to get her! They're going to hurt her, I have to help her! Katniss!! Katniss!!" He starts to try to stand up and I barely manage to grab a hold of him.

"What is he talking about?!" Gale asks.

"I think he's flashing back to his Games, when the Gamemakers sent those fireballs at Katniss to force her back towards the other tributes," I say, still struggling to keep Peeta from trying to run away.

"Oh God, then he watched her get burned alive in the Quell," Gale whispers, his eyes wide. He looks down at Peeta, still screaming Katniss's name, then at the burning remains of our home as realization dawns on his face.

"This is what it must have been like. For him, in the arena. And for her," Gale says.

"Dude, this probably isn't even the half of it," I reply, shaking my head.

Gale shakes his head and moves over to sit down by Peeta, wrapping his arm around Peeta's shoulders. "I'll make sure you get through this, okay?" he says to Peeta. "I'll do it for her."

"For my Katniss," Peeta cries, raking his hands though his hair and hugging his knees back to his chest.

"Yeah," Gale says as he looks off into the distance. "For your Katniss. She was always yours."

By dawn the bombers have left, with only the distant roaring fires evidence of their destruction. All those old wooden homes embedded with coal dust. There probably isn't much, if anything, left of District 12. I'm sitting with my back against a boulder with Madge's dozing head on my shoulder. Peeta finally stopped rocking and screaming long enough to fall asleep again for a bit. Mrs. Everdeen and Prim set up some sort of triage area to treat the injured. I'm not sure exactly how big our group is, but I haven't been able to find my parents or Bannock and his wife yet. I haven't seen Madge's parents either, or anyone else from Town.

"We should get moving soon," Gale says from his position next to Peeta. "We need to find a water source."

"I know a place," Peeta pipes up suddenly, his voice hoarse and low. His eyes are a little clearer now and more focused. "There's a lake that's fed by a freshwater spring, about another hour that way," and he points northeast.

Gale looks at him skeptically. "Are you sure? I've never been that far in that direction."

Peeta nods, his face wistful. "Yeah," he says quietly. "Katniss brought me there once. It's where her father taught her how to swim. And she taught me to swim."

"That's good enough for me," I say, looking up at Gale. He nods and climbs to his feet.

"All right everyone," he yells out. "We're moving out in 10 minutes! Just follow the crowd."

Our ragtag group meanders through the woods, as quietly as almost a thousand people can when they're moving through a woods. There's no real conversation happening. Peeta can at least walk on his own now, but he's limping badly and his pace is slow. As we arrive at the lake I see tears spring to his eyes.

"Yeah, this should work okay," Gale says as he looks around. "We need to start gathering branches to make shelters, and we need to organize people who can hunt and fish, and get a place set up to treat the wounded."

"Katniss taught me to shoot," Peeta says somberly. "I'm not great, but I know how."

Gale nods. "All right then, you're with me," he says. "Rye, I'll get you, Haymitch, and Thom to start gathering branches. Rory, you and Vick start digging holes for latrines."

It's backbreaking work gathering wood for cooking fires and shelters. Madge joins Katniss's mom and sister in organizing the sick and wounded into groups according to severity. They set up a crude field hospital, treating their patients with whatever they can glean from the woods. Delly Cartwright and her younger brother suddenly appear by the water and ask how they can help, their faces and clothes covered in soot. They say that they were the last people to leave Town, and there's still been no sign of my parents or Bannock, or Madge's parents.

With the two sets of bows and arrows, two knives, and an old, abandoned fishing net with a few holes in it, we've managed to survive out here in the wilderness for over a week. By the eighth day I've pretty much given up all hope of seeing my parents or Bannock again. Sadly enough it doesn't surprise me. I can't imagine how my mom reacted to a Seam coal miner pounding on the back door of the bakery in the middle of the night, and Bannock's wife was almost as bad as Mom when it came to her opinions about people from the Seam. I'm surprised that she never said anything rotten to Katniss about it. And from the looks of things, the Mayor's mansion was one of the first buildings hit when the attack started, with Peeta's house being a close second.

I'm knee-deep in the lake pulling the fishing net back to shore when I hear the roar of another hovercraft overhead. I'm about ready to drop the net and run back to the makeshift camp when the hovercraft lands in a small clearing near the lake and a squad of eight soldiers emerges from the landing ramp. But they're not Peacekeepers. These soldiers are dressed in green and black uniforms and carry different rifles than Peacekeepers. Their apparent leader, a tall man with dark skin and no hair walks towards me as he looks around.

"Are you Peeta Mellark?" he asks, eyeing me with curiosity through narrowed eyes.

"That depends on who's asking," I say evenly. "Who are you and where are you people from?"

The soldier immediately stands at attention. "I'm Commander Boggs, from District 13," he says with authority. "We've been sent to evacuate the refugees from the District 12 attack." Then he looks intensely at me again. "So I'll ask you again, are you Peeta Mellark?"

I hesitate before replying, eyeing this Commander Boggs suspiciously. District 13 was supposedly destroyed during the Dark Days, before the Hunger Games even started. No one has heard anything from that area in seventy-five years, and we're always told that the entire area surrounding the district is contaminated with radioactive fallout. But if that's true, then where did these people come from? And how did they get their rifles, or their hovercraft, which definitely approached from the northeast? It doesn't make any sense.

"District 13 doesn't exist anymore," I say dismissively.

"That's what the Capitol wanted you to believe," Boggs says. "But only the surface was destroyed. After the Dark Days we learned to survive underground. I'd be happy to give you a more accurate history lesson another time, but right now my mission is only to find Peeta Mellark. Are you him?"

My eyes widen as I process this new information. I'm not quite ready to trust these people yet, but they've made no move to raise their rifles and this Boggs seems to be decent enough. "No," I finally say. "Peeta's my younger brother. He's off hunting right now. What do you want with him?"

"President Coin of Thirteen has made the rescue of Peeta Mellark a top priority," Boggs says. "Can you take us to him?

"What does your president want with Peeta? And what about the rest of us?" I ask. "There's almost a thousand people out here!"

"I'm prepared to radio in additional hovercrafts once I verify that Peeta Mellark is here," Boggs says. "We can evacuate all of you to Thirteen by the end of the day. But first," and he looks me right in the eye. "First, you need to take me to your brother. I have an important message for him."

I stare into the dark brown eyes of this man for almost a full minute, looking for any reason to believe that he is lying to me, before I nod my head. "All right then," I say. I pull the fishing net up and tie it around a rock, leaving the captured fish in the water so they don't spoil.

The team of soldiers follows me as I lead them the short distance back to our camp. As I arrive I can just make out Peeta and Gale returning with several ducks under their arms.

"There he is," I say to Boggs, pointing to my disheveled and limping little brother. Gale stops short when he sees the group of soldiers standing with me.

"What's this?" he asks suspiciously.

"They say they're from District 13," I reply. "And they have a message for Peeta."

Gale's eyebrows shoot up and he quickly scans the group of soldiers. "Thirteen?" he says, confused. Then his eyes narrow. "What do you want with Peeta?"

At the mention of his name Peeta looks up, his face expressionless. Boggs steps right over to him.

"Are you Peeta Mellark?" Boggs asks. Peeta looks at him and nods slowly.

"Yeah, I'm Peeta," he says.

Boggs snaps to attention again. "I'm here to deliver a message to you, sir," he says. "Katniss Everdeen is in District 13, and she is alive."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the timeline for the bombing of Twelve is different in my story. Part of the reason for that will be revealed later, but it has also always been a view of mine that the almost immediate bombing of Twelve following the end of the Quell as explained in the original books was a bit unrealistic.


	45. Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to District 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will backtrack in the beginning to shortly after the end of the Quell. It is in Katniss's POV.

KPOV

"Miss Everdeen, can you hear me? You're safe now. You're going to be all right, but we need you to hold as still as you can."

The voice is unfamiliar. Wherever I am smells like strong disinfectant. I think I'm lying on a bed, but it's not very comfortable and the sheets feel scratchy and stiff. My arms feel heavy and warm, almost too warm, and there's the pinching sensation of tubes in the crooks of both of my elbows.

"Where?" I manage to croak out. My mouth is bone dry, my head hurts, my throat hurts, and my lips feel swollen. I swallow with difficulty and manage to clear my throat a little.

"Where am I?" I ask.

"You were evacuated from the arena, Miss Everdeen, and brought to District 13. You have a concussion, so your head may be hurting a bit. You also needed surgery for some burns to your arms and chest. We had to put a tube down your throat during your surgery, that's why your throat is sore."

District what? District 13? "Thirteen?" I say. "How?"

"We rescued you from the arena and brought you here for medical treatment," I hear another voice say. A more familiar voice. Very slowly, I open my eyes.

Plutarch Heavensbee is looking down at me, that half smile, half smirk on his lips. Seeing his face makes me jump.

"What are you doing here?" I demand.

"Try to calm down, Miss Everdeen," someone who must be a nurse says. "You just woke up, everything's going to be a little hazy for a while."

"Where's Peeta?" I ask. "Where's my family? Do they know I'm alive?"

"Right now things are a little, confused shall we say, in the districts," Plutarch says. "But things are even more confused in the Capitol, which is what we were hoping for. I'll admit, things didn't go quite the way we planned it, but I think it will all turn out for the best."

"What will turn out for the best?" I say in frustration. "I want to see Peeta. I want him here with me."

"You were our priority from the beginning," Plutarch continues, like he didn't even hear me. "The goal was always to get you out. Most of the tributes were in on it."

In on what? I try to push myself up by my elbows, but my arms can't support my weight and I have to close my eyes against the immediate wave of nausea that appears. "What?"

"You need to keep still Miss Everdeen!" a nurse admonishes as she eases me back down onto the gurney. "You will open your wounds again if you move too much."

"This is the revolution," Plutarch replies. "And you are the Mockingjay. And you're in District 13 right now, and as soon as we can we will answer all of your questions."

"I want to see Peeta," I say again. "Or at least talk to him. He needs to know that I'm alive."

"And he will," Plutarch says. "As soon as we're able. Right now the communication lines are still down. That one arrow you shot took out several targets. All of the power lines to and in the Capitol were shorted out, and the lines of communication between the districts were almost completely fried. The Capitol has extremely limited resources of its own to restore those lines of communication and electricity, so until they do and we can piggy back onto their signals again, we have no way of contacting the other districts."

"But," I start to say, but Plutarch holds up his hand.

"I'll let you know as soon as we can get a message to Twelve, okay? Right now the most important thing you can do is get back on your feet again," he says.

There's that smirk again. I don't trust this man. But right now I don't really have any other choice, so I nod carefully. "Okay."

Days, then weeks start to pass by in a painful blur. Because of my concussion I'm not allowed to read or watch anything until my headaches have gone away, so I'm left with nothing to do besides stare at the walls and ceilings for several days. The nurses also tell me that a couple of my deeper burns needed something called a skin graft, where they took skin from my legs and hips and grafted it onto my upper chest and my right arm. Then there's the rest of the burns that weren't quite severe enough to require a skin graft, but still severe enough to need specialized treatment. If you call taking me to something akin to a torture room every other day and basically scraping the dead skin off of the burned areas, specialized. It takes four men to hold me down in something that looks like a round bathtub while two doctors attack my burned limbs with things that look like square metal hairbrushes. They give me morphling before each of these procedures, but it still is the absolute worst pain I've ever felt. The last session was so terrible that once they pulled me out of the bathtub I actually kneed the head doctor in the groin so hard that he ended up having to leave the room. They even try to take my wedding ring off, but I won't allow it, even after they say I would need more of these skin-scraping sessions, I still refuse to allow them to take it off my finger.

They give me more medicine to help me sleep at night, since my nightmares seem to have followed me from the arena to Thirteen, but the drugs don't stop them. Every night I dream about horrible things. I see Peeta being tortured because I blew up the arena. I see the coal mine exploding around my father. I see my home burning. I see Snow laughing, with blood dripping down his chin.

Every morning the same brown-haired nurse with pale skin and hazel eyes wakes me up and brings me my breakfast of porridge, a piece of plain bread, and a cup of water. I think she said her name was O'Connor. Here in Thirteen there's always three meals a day, but they all seem to taste the same.

"And how are we today, Miss Everdeen?" nurse O'Connor asks in her overly cheerful tone as she sweeps into my room with a breakfast tray. It always takes me a while to completely wake up from the haze of the drugs.

Just then another nurse enters the room and starts whispering urgently to my nurse, something having to do with scheduling extra hours down in the emergency and quarantine levels in the next few days. Even with my Capitol-reconstructed left ear, I have to strain to hear what they are saying. There's far too much whispering that goes on around here, and I still haven't been told when I might be able to talk to Peeta.

"District 12... attack... casualties.... destroyed..."

What? What about District 12? "What's that?" I whisper, still a little loopy from the drugs. O'Connor glances briefly at me but doesn't otherwise move.

I painfully push myself up into a semi-sitting position. "What's that?" I say louder. "What about District 12?"

Both of their heads snap up in shock. O'Connor blinks a couple of times and shakes her head. "Nothing," she starts to say, but I cut her off.

"What happened in Twelve!" I say a little louder, moving to my knees with my hands on the end of the bed. My heavily bandaged arms wobble in pain, and I can feel the medicine and fluid tubes tugging where they're inserted into my skin.

The other nurse moves towards me. "Miss Everdeen, we need to you calm down-"

"That's not my name!!" I yell at her. I yank on one of the tubes and blood comes pouring down my arm, staining the pristine white bandage. "My name is Katniss Mellark! I'm from District 12, and I want to know what happened to my husband!!"

"Miss Everdeen," O'Connor says loudly. "Your injuries are severe and if you don't calm down I'm afraid I'll have to sedate you." I can see the other nurse talking into a panel on the wall next to the door.

I yank out another tube, not even noticing the blood streaming down my other arm. "I don't want to calm down!! I need to know what happened in Twelve!! Where's my husband? And my sister? And my mother?"

"Miss Everdeen, I'm warning you," the other nurse says. She grips my shoulders and tries to push me back onto the bed. "You need to calm down right now!"

"No!" I yell. I draw my hand back to push her hands away from me when two large men burst into the room and come right at me, one of them holding a syringe in his hand.

"No, no, no!!" I scream hysterically. "Someone help me!" I feel a needle prick in my upper arm and immediately my vision starts to blur.

"Peeta, help me," I manage to say before the room starts to spin too fast and I black out.

When I swim back into semiconsciousness, I can feel I'm lying on the bed with my arms restrained. The tubes I ripped out have been reinserted. Every now and then I can hear voices, talking in soothing tones that never quite reach me. They aren't the right voices, not the one I so desperately need to hear. Whenever I manage to open my eyes I see O'Connor looking down at me, her hand holding a syringe, ready to knock me out again if I get too agitated.

"Katniss," I hear one day, and the voice startles me. "Katniss, I'm sorry."

"Finnick?" I manage to whisper. My voice is hoarse with disuse. "What are you doing here?" His skin looks sickly in his hospital-issue, pale yellow gown with matching modesty pants.

"They rescued me from the arena also," he says with a slight chuckle, as his hands move almost automatically up and down a short length of rope. "If you call this being rescued. Beetee and Johanna are here too. They took Beetee back to weapons development almost as soon as he'd opened his eyes again."

"I need to know where Peeta is," I say in a raspy voice. "Do you know where he is?"

I can barely see him shake his head. "No," he says. "They haven't told me much, just that there was some sort of attack on Twelve. But they did tell me that the Capitol went into Four and took my Annie..., wasn't that nice of them?" He chuckles again as he yanks hard on the rope. "Always full of wonderful news they are here in Thirteen."

I tilt my head so Finnick can't see the tears streaming down my face. "I wish she was dead," I hear Finnick continuing. "I wish they were all dead and we were too. Maybe it would be best."

"I don't want Peeta dead!" I cry, looking back at Finnick, who's staring at the rope in his hands. "I want him here! Why won't anyone tell me what's happened to him?!" I can hear the sounds of the various monitors in the room as they start to beep.

Finnick turns his head back to look at me. "Katniss, I think you need to calm down. You need to be extra careful now-"

"Stop telling me to calm down!" I cry out. "Everyone's always telling me to calm down, and I can't calm down until I know what happened!" I start thrashing on the bed, trying to free my hands and getting dangerously close to pulling the tubes out yet again just as O'Connor comes rushing into the room. Once again, I feel the pinprick of a needle and everything goes black.

The next time my eyes open I'm startled to find my room filled with people. Plutarch Heavensbee is here, along with a tall man with dark skin who Plutarch introduces as Boggs, and a woman, maybe in her early fifties, with long, grey hair that falls in an unbroken sheet over her shoulders. Her hair fascinates me. It's so uniform, not a single wisp out of place, not a single split end, and the same color as the standard grey shirts that she and Plutarch are wearing. The man Boggs is dressed in black and is carrying a gun attached to a holder on his belt. There are at least three other people in here too, all standing in the background, and all staring down at me.

"Katniss Everdeen," Plutarch says. "Meet President Alma Coin." The grey-haired woman nods her head once in my direction.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Everdeen," President Coin says, her voice very calm and controlled. "I hope you know how welcome you are here."

"Where's Peeta?" I ask immediately. "Is he alive?"

Plutarch sighs and glances at Coin. "We still don't know the extent of the damage done to Twelve. Our communications with some of the districts are still sketchy, and-"

"No!" I say. "That's not good enough! You were able to get me, and Finnick and Beetee and Johanna out of that arena somehow, so you should be able to send someone to check and see what's happened to Twelve!"

I see Coin exchanging glances with the man called Boggs. "Can it be done without being seen?" she asks him.

Boggs nods. "Yes, if we fly low enough, we should be able to escape detection from their radar, if it's even up and running yet."

"Mmmhmm," Coin replies, looking back at me. "Am I to assume then that any cooperation you will give us is contingent on us checking on your home district?"

"Cooperation?" I ask angrily. "What do you need from me? And why should I have to cooperate with something for you to rescue people that are in trouble? I need my husband here!"

Plutarch starts clapping his hands. "See?" he says, looking triumphant. "I told you, Madame President, she's the one we need. That anger, that defiance, that's what we need as the face of this revolution!"

I see Coin glare at me. "All right then," she says, her voice never wavering. "I'll authorize a covert mission to check on District 12. If, Miss Everdeen, if you agree to do everything you can to recover from your injuries and agree to join our cause."

"You need to do more than check on them!" I say. "You need to bring the people here! I need Peeta here, and my family, and everyone else!"

More looks are exchanged. Plutarch, Boggs, and Coin move to the corner of the room and start whispering. More damn whispering!

"She won't be useful for too long now though..." I hear Coin say.

"Our numbers aren't growing at all, we need these people," I hear one of the other men say.

"The mission would have minimal risk," Boggs says.

"She won't cooperate at all without the boy here," from Plutarch. "He'd be the best person to talk some sense into her."

"We're going to need him to do more than that," Coin grumbles.

"What are you talking about?" I yell. "I'm tired of all the whispering around here!"

"Miss Everdeen!" Coin finally raises her voice. I narrow my eyes at her.

"That's not my name-" I start to say.

"I'll authorize the mission to rescue survivors from District 12," Coin says, glaring her pale, greyish eyes at me. "But that means you will do exactly what we say. Is that understood?"

"And what is it you want me to do, exactly?"

"Right now, you need to recover from your injuries," Coin replies in her annoyingly even voice. "Once you are fully recovered then we will discuss things a bit further."

"I want Peeta brought here to me as soon as possible," I say, trying and failing to hide the pleading note in my voice. "I need to see him! I need him here!"

Coin exchanges another look with Boggs, and I see her nod once. "Boggs will leave for Twelve within the hour. But I will warn you, it will still be a few days before you would be able to see anyone. We have quarantine procedures in place, and-"

"No, no, no," I say, my voice anguished. "You don't understand, I need to see Peeta as soon as possible!"

"I'm afraid that's the best I can do right now," Coin says, and she moves towards the door, pausing with her hand on the doorknob. She turns once more to look at my nurse. "If she gives you any trouble, just keep her asleep until the boy is ready to see her. If we're even able to find him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's not the reunion chapter! ;). I thought it was important to explain the extent of Katniss's injuries, and how my story is differing from canon. Also, we hadn't heard from Katniss in awhile.


	46. Bombshells

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, back in the woods...

PPOV

"I don't believe you," I say to the man holding the rifle. "I saw that fire, I saw her eyes close....I can't...". My voice is rising and I can feel my chest start to heave with the effort of breathing. "And District 13 doesn't exist. It was destroyed during the Dark Days. We've all seen the footage of the area."

We'd been taught from the second grade on that District 13 had been mainly responsible for the Dark Days rebellion, and that they had been completely destroyed at the conclusion of that rebellion. District 13 was a mining district like Twelve, except they mined for graphite instead of coal. Apparently the Capitol could get along better without graphite than they could without coal. Although now, since they've bombed Twelve into oblivion too, they're going to have to learn to get along without coal as well.

But then, if District 13 really was destroyed all those years ago, who are these people who say they're from there, who say that it's a thriving district but underground? Who say that my Katniss is alive?

Rye puts his hand on my shoulder. I can feel the hard expression on his face without even looking at him. "You guys had better be telling the truth right now," he says to the man called Boggs. "Do you have any idea what Peeta's been through these past few weeks? Katniss is his wife, and we've all thought she was dead!"

"It's not real!!" I yell, shoving Rye's hand off of me. "I can't believe it." I look directly at Boggs. "I won't believe it. Not until I see her for myself."

Boggs nods. "I'm prepared to bring you immediately to Thirteen, Mr. Mellark. But I'm afraid it'll be a few days before you'll be able to see Miss Everdeen. We have strict quarantine protocols that must be followed without exception."

"How long are we talking?" Gale demands. "Do you realize what we've all been through in the last few weeks?"

"We must make sure that you're not carrying any infectious agents," Boggs says harshly. "But I will do what I can to expedite the process if I'm able to. And if that's the case, we should leave right now," and he turns back to look at me.

I nod reluctantly, my jaw trembling. "All right, I'll go with you. But what about the rest of the people?"

"You have my word that the rest of the refugees will be evacuated by the end of the day," Boggs assures me. "I'll have your family join you in quarantine by tonight."

I turn and hand my bow and arrow sheath to Gale. His face is impassive, but his jaw is clenched as he takes them. "We'll see you soon," he says.

"Right then, we're moving out," Boggs calls to the rest of the soldiers.

The hovercraft ride takes about an hour, and once we land I'm immediately shuffled into a long corridor with what seems to have plastic walls. There's a bank of showers at the end where I'm asked to strip and shower with some kind of soap that stings my skin and smells strongly of lye. Then, after I stand in front of some sort of automatic drying machine, I'm given a pair of pants to wear that seem to be made out of some kind of paper before they usher me into a tiny room with a single bench in the corner.

"Mr. Mellark?" a voice comes over a loudspeaker, startling me. "Welcome to District 13. In a few minutes we will be needing to draw some blood from you and give you a physical exam. Is that okay?"

They're talking to me like I'm a spooked animal, which isn't too far off from how I'm feeling right now. "All ri-," I get out before my throat catches. I clear it with difficulty before repeating. "All right. But when can I see Katniss?"

"Our protocols require a minimum of forty-eight hours before people in quarantine can be released, but if we find any illnesses or injuries it could be longer."

I shake my head vigorously. "I'm not sick," I say. "Please, can't I see Katniss?"

Right then a door opens into the room and two people dressed in what look to be some kind of suit that you'd wear in outer space come in. My eyes immediately widen and I stumble towards the corner of the room.

"Don't be afraid, Mr. Mellark," one of them says, the strange helmet they're wearing making it hard for me to tell if it's a man or a woman. "We're only here to perform your exam. I promise we're not here to hurt you. And, I've just received word that the first hovercraft with refugees from your district has landed, so you won't be alone here for long."

I gulp and nod. "Okay."

The exam seems to take hours. They poke and prod and x-ray and scan pretty much every inch of me. They also take what appears to be a huge amount of blood from my arm and spend an extra long time examining my bad leg and prosthesis. Afterwards I'm given a pair of crutches and shuffled into what appears to be a huge common room of sorts with bunks lining the walls. I'm joined soon by Prim, Rory, and Posy, all wearing the same kind of paper clothes as me. They tell me Haymitch has been taken to a special room for alcohol withdrawal treatment. Over the rest of the day, more and people arrive every few minutes until the room is full and the people in the space suits have to start passing out floor pallets, as we've already run out of bunks.

"They told me there was a huge pox epidemic several years ago," Prim says to me. "It wiped out most of their children and made many of the rest of the adults sterile. That's why they have such strict quarantine procedures now."

Of course she would be interested in their medical practices. "That's horrible, but right now I just really want to see Katniss," I say. I feel my throat start to thicken again. "Do you really think she's here, Prim? For real?"

Prim's face lights up. "I do, I really do. You know Peeta, her chest was still moving when her eyes closed in the arena. I didn't realize it until today, but once I thought more about it, she never stopped breathing before the screen went dark. She's alive, I know it. And we're going to see her soon."

I can feel my eyes welling up at her enthusiasm. "Okay," I whisper.

I try to stretch out on one of the floor pallets that night, but find I'm not able to even close my eyes. Every little noise seems to make me startle, I can hear Rye snoring two people over from me, and my armpits and wrists are aching from using the crutches. The doctors haven't given me back my prosthetic leg back yet, saying that my stump needs to rest a little before I attach it again.

The next forty or so hours seem to take forever with all of us pacing around, with very little to distract us. Finally, I'm called in to another exam room and given a pair of black underwear, a pair of grey pants, and a matching shirt to dress in, but again told that my prosthetic needs to stay off for the time being. Then I'm led to another room where I find Commander Boggs sitting with a grey-haired woman and another man, who identifies himself as the doctor who examined me.

"Mr. Mellark, I'm President Alma Coin," the woman says, extending her hand. I take it hesitantly.

"Hello," I say quietly. "May I please see Katniss now?"

President Coin glances at the doctor, who looks down at a piece of paper in his hand. "Mr. Mellark, you have a severe iron deficiency, the tendons in your left hip are dangerously thin, and you have a four centimeter abscess in the stump of your leg. I would recommend immediate treatment before-"

"No!" I say, looking over to Boggs. "You told me once I cleared quarantine that I could see Katniss. I've been cleared, yes?"

"Yes, but the infection in your leg is severe," the doctor says firmly. "You need debridement and intravenous antibiotics, and even then we may not be able to save all of the rest of your leg."

"Please!" I yell. "Please just let me see her! After I see her I'll get the treatment, just as long as I can stay with her. Please!"

I see Coin exchanging more glances with Boggs. "Very well," she finally says, looking back at me. She then nods to the doctor. "Go ahead and take him."

I feel my heart start to pound. "Her mom and sister should come with me," I say quickly. "They would want to see her right away too."

President Coin looks at me quizzically before smiling. "By all means," she says.

Commander Boggs goes to fetch Prim and Mrs. Everdeen, and then the doctor leads us down a series of corridors into what looks like a hospital wing. He stops at a door and gestures for me to go in. My hand trembles as I push open the door, and all the air seems to leave my chest when I finally see her.

Katniss is lying there asleep on the bed, her beautiful dark hair spread out on the pillow, and her arms and chest covered in thick bandages. There's all kinds of tubes and wires attached to her, disappearing underneath her bandages and the blankets covering her. I can see what I think is a heart monitor showing the steady beating of her heart. Actually, there seems to be two of them.

"She was recovering from her burns rather well," the doctor says. "But then she overheard the nurses discussing the attack on your District, and she became so upset that we had to sedate her. We've tried letting her wake up but she just thrashes about and tries to pull her tubes out, so we've had to keep her sedated."

A sob forces its way out of my throat as my eyes fill with tears. She probably thought I was dead, that we were all dead. "Do you know when she'll wake up?" I ask, my voice thick.

"We don't know exactly," the doctor says, "but it shouldn't be too long. Her body was getting used to the drugs so we had to increase the dosage a little. It should be within the next six hours or so."

"Then no more drugs," I say firmly. "Let her wake up so she can see me. I'll stay with her."

The doctor frowns and looks over at Mrs. Everdeen. "We really can only allow family members to stay here for that long in the ICU..."

"He's her husband," Mrs. Everdeen says. I see a look of surprise pass over the doctor's face. "They've been married almost a year, so he can stay with her. I'll take my younger daughter and get us settled."

"Ah," the doctor says. "Then I suppose it's okay. I do apologize. We were not aware of the extent of Miss Everdeen's relationship to Mr. Mellark. There were some in the higher ranks who thought it was only a Capitol fabrication."

My head whips around to look at him. "I'm not sure why that would be the case," I say harshly. "But Katniss is my wife and I love her more than life itself. Our relationship has never been a fabrication."

"I understand, sir," the doctor stammers. "Should we change her name on her chart then?" He looks over at Mrs. Everdeen.

"Yes," I say firmly. Mrs. Everdeen smiles and nods.

"I do have one question though," Prim says. "Why are there two heart monitors in here?"

The doctor glances between the three of us. "Ah, well, yes," he stammers. "It makes a lot more sense now," he says, looking right at me. "We were wondering how it all came about."

"What makes more sense?" I say, probably more forcefully than I need to.

"We didn't know it right away," he continues. "It didn't become apparent until she'd been here for a few weeks, and she'd had a more thorough examination."

I drop my right crutch and grab his starched white coat by the lapel. "What are you talking about!"

"Katniss is pregnant," he says. I hear Prim gasp next to her mother. "She's a little over eight weeks along now. The baby looks fine and is growing normally. None of Katniss's injuries affected him or her."

I stumble backwards, my hand falling from the doctor's coat and flopping to my side. My head feels like it's spinning. "Eight weeks?" I whisper. "But that would mean..."

"She obviously became pregnant shortly before the Quell began," Mrs. Everdeen says. "But I thought she was drinking her tea?" she adds, looking at me.

"She was," I say, my voice trailing off. I remember the night before the reaping. We made love several times that night. She always drank her tea in the morning, with breakfast.

"We didn't eat or drink anything the morning of the reaping," I whisper. "Neither of us were hungry that morning. The tea was there, on the table, but she didn't drink it. And then she was reaped and they took her away."

Mrs. Everdeen nods and squeezes my arm. "It will be okay, Peeta," she says gently. "Katniss is strong, and you're strong, and your child is obviously strong too, to survive through everything that Katniss has been through."

My child. Our child, growing inside of her, his or her little heart beating in perfect rhythm.

"Peeta!" Prim exclaims. "You're going to be a daddy!"

"Oh God!" I gasp as I run my free hand frantically through my hair. "Does she know?" I ask, looking at the doctor.

He shakes his head. "No," he says quietly. "To be completely honest, we weren't sure who the father was, or if she had been traumatized in some way, and since we didn't want to upset Katniss any more than she already was, we haven't told her yet."

"And you didn't stop to think that maybe the news that she was carrying her husband's baby would be comforting to her?" Prim asks angrily. The doctor has the decency to look ashamed for a second.

"No," he says. "Like I said, we weren't sure just how close she and Mr. Mellark were."

My left hand is gripping onto my crutch to the point of pain to keep myself upright. I'm going to be a daddy. I don't try to stop the tears now flowing freely down my face. "Can I touch her, just hold her hand? I'll be really careful, I promise. I just need to hold her hand!"

The doctor sniffs and nods. "Of course," he says. "I'll remove her restraints and then go and get you a chair."

I barely hear him leave as I hobble over to the side of the bed, reaching for Katniss's hand under the blankets. I feel something cool and hard to the touch and gently uncover her hand to see her wedding ring, still there on her finger, right where I put it all those months ago. A fresh set of tears erupts from my eyes imagining Katniss adamantly refusing to take it off for any reason, even when her arms were burned.

"Oh my love," I whisper, as I bend down and slowly kiss her finger right over the ring. "I never thought I'd get to see you again."

"Here's your chair, Mr. Mellark," says a dark-haired nurse behind me, startling me. I sink down into it gratefully, not letting go of Katniss's hand.

"Thank you," I say quietly.

The nurse nods and moves towards the door. "Just press that red button on the wall if you need anything," she says, before exiting the room.

Mrs. Everdeen moves over and kisses Katniss on the forehead. "I'll take Prim and get us settled in our room now, Peeta," she says softly. "Is there anything you need before we go?"

I just shake my head, not taking my eyes off my Katniss. I feel Prim pat my shoulder and then they leave, closing the door behind them.

I sit there, staring at her face until my eyes start to blur. I have no idea what time it is, and I can't remember the last time that I slept longer than a few minutes. Katniss hasn't moved at all, but I can see a difference in her face already. Her brow was furrowed when we first came into the room, like she was distressed. But ever since I took her hand her expression has softened into a more peaceful look, like she's napping and having a good dream. If I squint I can almost see the faintest hint of a smile on her lips.

"You know I'm here, don't you love?" I whisper, allowing fat tears to roll down my face. I carefully raise her hand to my lips and kiss it. I want so badly for her to wake up so I can kiss her cheeks and lips, and see the look of surprise on her face when she sees me. "Please wake up soon, I have so much to tell you."

After a few more minutes I can't take it anymore, so I bring my other hand up to caress her cheek. I half expect a nurse to come running in to chastise me, but no one does, so I leave my hand there for a while, letting the soft touch of her skin heal all of the pain and anguish I've felt since the day she was reaped.

"I thought you were dead," I whisper. "And I wanted to die too. I can't live without you, Katniss, and now that I have you back I'm not letting you out of my sight ever again. Please wake up!"

But she doesn't. The doctor said it might be up to six hours before she wakes. "I love you, and I'm staying right here," I tell her. "And you'll see me when you wake up." Then I move my hand from her cheek and bring it to her belly, right over our baby. "And I love you too, and I'm going to take care of both of you."

After a few more minutes an almost overwhelming fatigue hits me and I struggle to keep my eyes open. I lay my head down on her bed right next to our intertwined hands and close my eyes, allowing myself to fall peacefully asleep for the first time in over two months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love comments! Please let me know what you think! :)


	47. Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Together at last.

KPOV

_The nightmare usually begins the same way. I'm lying flat on my back in the arena, unable to move except for the occasional involuntary twitch as the electricity courses through my body. I hear a loud noise as cracks appear along the domed roof of the arena, spider-webbing across the entire structure before large chunks of it start crashing to the ground. I see the burning tree branch skid across the jungle floor and come to a stop a few feet away from me. I watch the spark fly up from the tree branch and land near my wrist, where it bursts into flames. The flames follow only the path of my skin, up my left arm, across my chest and down my right arm where they seem to concentrate. The unbearable pain from the fire takes my breath away. I try to turn my head away from the worst of it, and then I see Peeta. He's sitting there as the flames start to consume him as well, shaking his head at me in disappointment._

_"You promised you would come home to me, Katniss," he says, his voice so cold and reproachful. "Now look at you. You'll never come home now."_

_"Peeta!" I try to say, but my throat seems to have lost the ability to form words. "Peeta, I'm sorry! I love you, and I tried so hard! I'm so sorry!"_

_But he shakes his head like he's ashamed of me. Then he turns around and leaves me lying there alone on the jungle floor and I watch, helpless, as the mutt flames fall away from him the further away he gets._

_Sometimes instead of Peeta it's my sister that I see in the flames. I see her blonde braid resting on her back as she's bent over doing something, trying to help someone who's hurt I think. I call out her name and she looks up at me in confusion, right before the flames explode in her face, leaving me screaming for her to run, run, run..._

_Somehow today it's different. This time when I'm able to turn my head from the flames eating away at my body, I see Peeta again. But this time, instead of standing there watching me as I burn, he's reaching his hand towards me. His eyes aren't the emotionless, steel blue that I've come to expect, but the beautiful azure blue that I love so much. His face isn't impassive and cold anymore. Instead he's smiling, and I see tears in his eyes, but they're tears of joy instead of heartache. His warm hand reaches for mine and clasps it carefully, like it's precious to him. He sits down on the ground next to me and kisses my hand, right over my ring, the smile never leaving his face even as tears roll down his cheeks._

_"It's okay now, Katniss," he says happily. "I'm with you now, it's going to be okay."_

_And suddenly, all of the flames completely vanish._

As I slowly feel the sedatives release their hold on my consciousness, I become aware that the ever-present pressure from the restraints that hold my arms down next to me, is gone. Instead, there's a much gentler restraint holding my hand in place, but only my left hand. The new restraint is warm, and soft, and feels oddly familiar.

I let my eyes blink open for a second, expecting to see O'Connor staring down at me, holding her syringe in her hand, ready to use it if I misbehave again. But she's not there, so I close my eyes again. Then the object holding my hand twitches slightly and my eyes fly open in alarm.

That's strange, I think to myself. There's nothing out of the ordinary in my field of vision so I start to turn my head towards the strange twitching object. What I see causes me to freeze.

He is here, sitting in a chair next to my bed and holding my hand. His head, all tousled blond curls, is lying next to our intertwined hands. He's asleep, but I can see his eyes moving underneath his eyelids. He's dreaming, and from the slight smile on his lips and the peaceful look on his face, it must be a good dream.

"I must be dreaming," I whisper, my throat dry and my voice hoarse. I quickly scan the rest of the room. Everything looks the same, from the clock on the wall that reads about two minutes past midnight, to the lightly beeping monitors above me, and the tubes running into my bandaged arms. Everything's the same, except that he's here. He's alive, and in my room with me, holding my hand.

I shake my head slightly. It can't be true, can it? After all this time? Very slowly, I raise my trembling right hand and bring it across my body before resting it lightly on his head. His hair feels just like I remember it, soft and silky and flopping over his forehead in waves. He probably needs a haircut, but I've always loved when he wore it longer. I pick my hand up and run my fingers slowly through his downy hair, brushing it carefully away from his forehead.

His fingers interlocked with mine twitch again, and I hear him inhale as his eyes blink open. He looks confused for a few seconds, not recognizing where he is probably. And then his head lifts off the bed as my hand falls away from his hair, and his blue eyes look straight into mine for the first time in far too long.

"Peeta," I whisper, not daring to hope that it really is him and not just a hallucination until he responds to me. His eyes widen and I see his Adam's apple bob as he swallows thickly. Very slowly, he brings his other hand up to my face to cup my cheek.

"Katniss?" he replies in a shaky voice. "Are y-, are you real?"

I feel tears spilling over my eyelids and onto my face as I nod once and bring my free hand up to cover his.

"Real," I whisper. "I'm real. This is real."

"Oh my God," he whispers as his face loses all composure. His hand leaves my face for a second as he pushes himself up from his chair to sit facing me on my hospital bed.

"Katniss?" he says, his voice still thick and raspy.

"Uh huh?" I'm too enamored with him to form words right now.

"My love," he says. "Can I kiss you?"

Happy sobs escape my throat as more tears roll down my face. "You don't have to ask me. You know that."

He takes my face into both of his hands and gently brushes the tears from my cheeks. Then he slowly leans forward until our lips meet, just the gentlest touch. His lips are chapped but warm, always so warm, and I bring my hands up and thread them into his hair to hold him in place, because he's here, he's finally here with me. And then we break apart and he rests his forehead carefully against my neck and begins to sob. Loud, body wrenching sobs.

"You are real," he chokes out, his tears dampening the bandage stretched over my chest. "I never thought I'd get to see you again. I watched you die, and I thought I'd lost you. I thought... I thought you were gone forever."

I bury my nose into his hair and inhale his scent. "You're not going to lose me, ever again," I say. "I'm here and I'm going to stay right here with you for as long as you'll let me. I thought I'd lost you too. No one here could tell me if you were alive or not."

"I'm never letting you out of my sight again," he says firmly, looking right into my eyes. "I love you so much. It nearly killed me when I thought I'd lost you. And Prim, and your mom, and Rye and Madge and Gale and Haymitch are all here too. We're all okay. We're all safe."

I'm all out of words for the moment, so I just carefully wrap my heavy arms around his neck and bring his head back down to rest against me as he wraps his arms around me. As I run my fingers through the hair on the back of his head I allow myself to relax for the first time in as long as I can remember.

"Peeta?"

"Hmmm?"

"Will you stay with me?"

"Always," he says, and his arms tighten around me as I rest my cheek against his head. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to stay right here and take care of you both."

Instantly I feel my blood run cold and I start to tremble. "Both?" I gasp. "What do you mean both? You love someone else besides me?"

I feel his arms tighten around me again before he lifts his head to look at me. His blue eyes are twinkling and there's the hint of a smile on his lips, like he's trying to hide it. My stomach starts to churn.

"Katniss," he breathes, kissing me on the cheek. "Something wonderful has happened. Something to give hope to both of us. Something for us to live for beyond ourselves."

My whole body is shaking. "What is it?" I ask, feeling like I should dread his answer.

He leans forward to kiss my lips, a sweet kiss that's cut short when he can't hold in his smile. When he pulls back I see more tears shining in his beautiful eyes. "Katniss, we're going to have a baby. You... you're pregnant, with my baby."

I feel the blood drain from my face and my head slumps back against the pillows. Tears flood my eyes as I squeeze them shut, willing it to go away. I shake my head vigorously. "No," I whisper. "No, no, no, Peeta! I can't! I can't have a baby! We can't have a baby! Snow would take him from us and kill him, or he'll kill us and leave him an orphan! Peeta, I can't do that to him!" I can hear the monitors attached to me starting to beep and I will myself to take a couple of deep breaths. The last thing I need right now is O'Connor running in here with her syringe to knock me out again.

"Hey, hey," Peeta says soothingly, his hands against my face as he peppers me with kisses. "It's okay to be scared. I'm scared too. But up until yesterday I thought you were dead, and yet here you are." He stops to kiss my lips and then looks right into my eyes. "I love you so much, and I'm going to be with you the whole way. I promise I won't let Snow hurt our baby."

"But Peeta," I say. "The Hunger Games...Snow won't hesitate to reap him. I couldn't stand to watch our child go through that!"

Peeta kisses my cheek again. "One of the things I love so much about you is how you love. You love with every fiber of your being. You're in love with this baby already, and you've only known about him for a couple minutes! And why are you so convinced that the baby is a him?"

His question catches me so off guard that I can only blink at him for a few seconds. "I don't know," I finally stammer. "I guess when I've tried to imagine a child that we would have, I've always seen a little boy, with your hair and my eyes."

His eyes widen in shock. "Really?" he says. "You've pictured us with a son?"

I feel my face reddening and I look away. "Yeah," I whisper. "And he always looks just like you, but with grey eyes instead of blue." Peeta lets out a noise that sounds like a half sob/ half laugh.

"You see?" he says. "You're even ahead of me there." He kisses my cheek again. "But Katniss, we can't always be scared of the future. Look at where we are? We're in a district right now that we were always told was destroyed! The Capitol isn't as strong as they want us to believe. Katniss, when you shot out that forcefield in the Quell you crippled the Capitol for over a month! They rely on the districts for almost everything, and soon all the districts are going to stand together and say that we've had enough! President Snow himself told me how fragile a system it was. All we need to do is fight back. We need to band together and fight back. And then, if I have to, I'll kill President Snow myself if it means that our child will be safe. But he will be safe. And we will love him, and you'll be so happy. We'll be so happy!"

He looks so unashamedly full of joy that I can't help but smile a little. "Yeah? You really think so?"

He leans forward to kiss my lips gently, then holds my chin in place so I can't look away. "Yes I do," he says firmly. "I really do."

I feel my smile widening. "Okay," I whisper. "Okay." Peeta kisses my forehead and smiles again, so wide that I start to laugh. He's going to be such a wonderful father. An overwhelming flood of emotion suddenly washes over me. If what Peeta said is true, that the districts could fight back against the Capitol. That someday we could live in a country that's free of the Hunger Games, free from the fear of starvation, then there's really no real reason for me to be so afraid. And this world definitely needs more people in it that are like Peeta. He is everything that is good and beautiful in the world.

I slowly bring my bandaged arms back around his neck. "Peeta?"

"Yes, my love?"

"I love you.  And I love our baby. You're right. Things will be better, and we will be so happy."

His smile now threatens to split his face in half. "Yeah?" he says. I nod and kiss him, right over both of his cheekbones. "I love you too, both of you. And right now all I want is to hold you, so badly. Can I do that?"

I immediately scoot over to the side of the bed, as far as I can without falling out, and hold the blankets up for him to crawl underneath. "Please?" I whisper. "I've missed the feel of your arms around me. I always feel safe when you're holding me."

He very carefully adjusts himself next to me, making sure not to pull on any of the tubes or put any undo pressure on my burned arms. I can't help the fresh tears that fall from my eyes as I lay my head down on his chest and hear his strong heartbeat, a sound I feared I would never hear again. And even though it seems like all I've been doing for the past month is sleeping, I'm suddenly overcome with exhaustion. I feel Peeta's lips kissing the top of my head and his fingers gently running through my hair, and I know that at least for now everything will be okay, because he's here with me. And that maybe, someday we will live in a place with no Games and no Capitol. A place where Peeta's child, where _our_ child, can be safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter of my story! I am overwhelmed with how well it was received, thank you so very much! I especially want to thank everyone who took the time to leave comments for me, I really appreciate each of you! I have the first chapter of the sequel already written and plan on posting it by Sunday of this week. I'll post an author's note here with the link to the sequel once I have the first chapter posted.  
> Thank you all again! :)


	48. Sequel Posted

I just posted the first chapter of the sequel! It can be found here:

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9489800

I hope you enjoy it!! ❤❤


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